


Outsiders

by Senflowers



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Assassination, Assassins, Chiefdoms, Dragons, F/M, Minor Violence, Princes & Princesses, Suggested Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senflowers/pseuds/Senflowers
Summary: Outsiders in a world of violence and deceit. Where adults dance in games of politics and death.Will they figure out how to play before they start to belong?





	1. Hiccup

"Did you do it?"  
"I did what I had to do." Hiccup said through his teeth.  
"Good. We should receive confirmation by morning."  
He preferred not think about that. Hiccup sighed. He was tired, sleepy, and hungry. He hasn't had any food since yesterday when he had to hurry back to the Fortress so he could arrive on time. And now, he was getting grilled with questions he would rather not answer right now. He would rather be in his workshop, studying creatures or inventing contraptions. Or asleep. _Sleeping sounds like the better plan at the moment._  
_I would have to check on Toothless later. He'd been on his own for three days, not that he'd go hungry, but he can be a grump when he thinks he's been deprived of attenti--_  
"-en!"  
"Ren! Are you even listening?"  
Hiccup jumped at the sudden mental intrusion, and replied "Yeah, uh- yeah, I heard you."  
Narrowing his eyes, Eret nodded. A dismisal. Hiccup stood up, a little stiff from kneeling for at least half an hour. He adjusted the mask covering his face, and finally pulled it down. It was getting stuffy. He walked down the corridors of the Fortress, careful not to be seen. He slipped into a room not far from the secret chamber he was just in. There lay spare clothes a tunic with matching simple trousers, finer than the ones he currently wore, and changed into them. Deeming himself presentable, he listened for sounds of footsteps or noise outside. Finding none, he turned the lock and stepped outside.  
There wasn't a servant in sight, save for some guards stationed in the courtyards and the walls. Making his way quickly to his chambers by taking a detour through the kitchen, which was devoid of people, thank gods for small mercies. Now he didn't have to be explain why he needs a small serving of fish. Finding a small basket to put some small mackerels that he was sure won't be missed, he continued on to his chambers.  
Opening the large wooden door, he found Toothless sitting on his window sill, as if deep in thought. Toothless was a small black cat who resided, albeit secretly, in Hiccup's chambers.  
"Toothless! I'm home!"  
Toothless remained unmoving, not even bothering on acknowledging Hiccup when he pulled on its tail.  
"Ah! I know what you'll like!" Picking up the small basket of mackerels and enticing Toothless with it. "Mmm! Mackerels! So tasty! Yum yum yum!"  
"Nyaaow" Toothless deadpanned. Hiccup placed it in front of Toothless's nose. Still unimpressed, Toothless turned away from Hiccup and his little basket of mackerels to jump down the window to the seat beside it.  
"Aww are you pouting, you big baby boo? Oh, come on! Forgive me? You know I had to go? For the record, I really didn't wanna leave you...soo.. Are we good?" At Hiccup's fake weepy face, Toothless decided free fish for forgiveness wasn't a bad deal at all, and proceeded to lap up the fish inside the basket.  
"Yeah go for it." Hiccup said, laying down his mattress, the three days finally catching up to him. He was still hungry, but he can just eat tomorrow. Tonight, he was going to sleep like a log.  


* * *

He grabbed an apple from the kitchen pantry on the way to breakfast. It was early morn and birds were chirping, _gonna be sunny today, I guess._ Going straight ahead down the stone corridor, fire sconces dancing in the cool wind, he trudged to the kitchen to find his uncle already halfway though his meal.  
"I would expect a proper heir would at least know what time breakfast is supposed ta be? Yer night excursions doesne' excuse ye from being late, lad!"  
"Apologies, Chief."  
"Ferget it. I received news this mornin'. We shall discuss this in depth later in my study. I'll have someone fetch ye."  
"Okay Uncle! Though I have training and studies this morning! See ya at noon then!"  
Spitelout cursed at the loudness of Hiccup's voice which echoed down the stone walls. "Ye don't have te shout! I can hear ye! Odin, its tee early te be shouting me ears off!"  
"Well we are fifteen seats apart, so.." Hiccup snorted inwardly. Spitelout had to be nursing a hangover this early in the morning. Hiccup had made it his daily goal to annoy his Uncle every chance he can get.  
They ate in silence until the Chief stood up and left with a grunt and not another word.  
Sighing to himself, Hiccup continued eating until he was full and cleaned up after himself, to the servant's utter horror. He briefly wondered if the maid was new, since Hiccup did this everytime. He didn't want to be waited on or served if he can do it himself. Rare were the times when he let the maids do everything for him. That was mostly when he was too tired or sick or drunk to care.  
"Hi, I take it you're new here?"  
"I.. yes... my Prince. I was introduced to the kitchens only three days ago."  
"Oh, no need for titles with me. I really don't care for any of that. When its just you and me or with other staff, it's fine to call me Hiccup."  
"oh no, I don't dare be that presumptuous!"  
"It's not presumptuos, it's making a friend. Ask anyone, they know this about me." smiling at the maid, he continued on to the kitchens still holding the tray of plates and finally putting it down near one of the wash basins.  
"Hey Hicc! How are ya? You've been gone three days! Ya should'a seen your Uncle brood about the Fortress!" Fishlegs, the cook, shook his head. "If I didn't know the Chief any better, I would've thought he was worried!"  
 _About my mission._ "Nah, if he's worried, it won't be about me." Fishlegs snorted his agreement.  
Fish was a husky young man who cooked in the Fortress kitchens. Cami, Fishlegs and Hiccup had grown up together, and so can't help the easy friendship that soon formed between them. They had been near inseparable when they were little.  
 _Everything had been so much simpler back then._  
"I'm fine, back to having small banters with the Best Uncle in the Archipelago, nothing too serious yet, though." Hiccup chuckled, remembering Uncle Spite's wince.  
"Good for you. Just leave those here," eyeing the tray of plates he had put down. "I know you still have training to do."  
"Thanks, Fish." and then, winking at the maid who was silently observing the easy conversation, Hiccup left the kitchens.  
He went out to the courtyard and made his way to the guard's training grounds, hoping to catch the others and get some training in. His sword, Inferno, was strapped at his belt. Hiccup was rather good at swordfighting, and he enjoyed the sport. Entering the grounds, men stood up in salute and Hiccup waved to dismiss them.  
This was mostly formality, since most of his father's men were his friends. It was one of the few things Hiccup's father had taught him, 'make yer men trust ye enough te be his confidante, and he would lay down his life fer ye' of course, Hiccup doesn't need his men to 'lay down his life fer him', but having more friends never hurt.  
Hiccup had always wondered why his father had taught him so early, as though a snivelling toddler would've understood everything he said. _As if Stoic knew.._  
 _Nah._ He can't think about that right now. _Too early for depressing thoughts._  
Hiccup spent most of the morning training with the men and sparring. After changing his sweat soaked tunic and dust covered trousers into a clean pair, Hiccup was summoned to his Spitelout's study. On his way he passed Camicazi.  
"Cami! You missed breakfast."  
"I did."  
"Uncle Spite will bitch about that, you know."  
"I know. I just didn't want to see his frowny face so early in the morning."  
"You bet. He's getting older and wrinklier."  
"Ah. I can't wait until he screams his arse off when he sees what I snuck in his chamberpot."  
Hiccup shook his head in admiration, his sister had always done what she wanted, regardless of consequences. Cami wasn't Hiccup's blood and kin, but she might as well be. They grew up together and did almost everything together. She was an heir to the Bog Chiefdom, with whom Berk has had a lot of blood history with. The last war with them had resulted in great loss for both.  
Berk triumphed, and to ensure that the bog will be no threat to Berk, Stoic demanded Cami, Bog's heir who was still but a babe at the time, be left in the care of the Berkian royal family, to be raised as one of their own until the time comes for Hiccup and Cami's little sister to marry and ensure lasting peace between chiefdoms. It wasn't Stoic's proudest moment, but, well.  
Cami knew this, and has only known her family through letters and the furs they send her on her birth celebrations. Hiccup's father had at least been good to Cami, giving her what she needs and overlooking her mischiviousness. Stoic had loved Cami. Hiccup remembered being jealous of Cami as a child, thinking Stoic had preferred Cami over his own son.  
The servant tapped his foot on the stone pavement and looked irritably to the end of the corridor. Spitelout might be getting impatient.  
"Anyway, catch you later, got a meeting with good ol' Uncle." Hiccup couldn't quite meet her eye.  
Cami, more worried than suspicious, wished him, "Good luck, then."  
"Yeah, see ya."  
Hiccup motioned for the servant to lead the way. Spitelout's office was nearly as large as Hiccup's chambers, with an adjacent library for Stoic and Valka's private collections. Those only gathered dust now.  
Hiccup stood waiting by the desk while his Uncle retrieved some parchments from his cabinets. Hiccup poured them wine, to which Spitelout suspiciously accepted. Hiccup's father was not much of a drinker, preferring beverages that do not lower inhibitions. But Spitelout.. well. Let's just say the more alcoholic it is, the better.  
And surprisingly, Hiccup actually thinks the mead does Spitelout some good.  
He'd tried to stay sober once. Long story short, it didn't end well for everyone else.  
"I received news at dawn, as I told ye earlier," Spitelout continued on, "that the Chief of Bog had passed away the evening before. I see ye did yer job very well. If they suspected anything, it canne' be pinned on us. We have Cami, afterall. We simply don't have the motive in their eyes."  
"Yeah, I-uhh.. Did as you asked." Hiccup morosely replied.  
Spitelout's brows drew together. "I know ye don't like what I make ye do. If only Stoic, my dear brother, Odin rest his wicked soul, hadn't passed away when ye were but a toddling little pest, I wouldn't have been made Acting Chief." a slow rotten smile spread across his uncle's face, "And as I am Acting Chief, YE WILL DO AS I SAY! Ye see, I had to find some use for ye. I can't have ye feedin' off me table and lazing about the Fortress. Ye'd have to embrace it sooner or later, lad."  
Yeah, like your stupid arse son does anything useful.  
Hiccup had always hated this part of his life.  
Which means he hated most of what his life had been.  


* * *

_It all started on a snowy day, as all days were..well, snowy in the archipelago. But that day, Hiccup remembered falling on his arse while chasing Cami out in the courtyard._   
_The soil had frozen overnight, and Hiccup had slipped and fell on a patch of dirt and snow. He was having trouble breathing through his nose, as he always did when he was feeling extra cold. He hadn't cried, and Hiccup was so proud of himself for it. He was going to tell his Dad what a grown man he was._   
_Then Hiccup remembered his nurse running for him and picking him up in such a haste, he had dropped the small axe his father had gifted him. Hiccup had remembered looking down on Cami as she got smaller and smaller, waving him goodbye, as she, too, was swept away in the opposite direction._   
_Then he noticed that his cheeks were wet. He frowned. It can't be wet, he was going to tell Dad he didn't cry today. His Dad was going to be so proud. Then Hiccup noticed Nana Eerika's eyes. They were getting red and tears freely flowed to her cheeks. In truth, Nana Eerika had been as much a child as he was. She couldn't have been more than sixteen at the time. She had been pretty. Eerika was always smiling and giving him wild flowers. He thought about how he didn't want Eerika sad._   
_He kept asking her why, but she had covered Hiccup's mouth. The gesture was so unlike his Nan, that he froze and shut his mouth, thinking of what he might have done wrong to Nana Eerika. She was frantic and kept looking back. Then he was put down and ushered to a stone wall, where, to his utter delight, gave way to a secret room._   
_"Hiccup, babe, we- we're going to play a game, okay? Is- is that alright with you?" she smoothed Hiccup's hair away from his face with shaking hands. Her voice had been trembling and her tears were still flowing down her cheeks._   
_"A game? What game? Hide and seek?" Eerika nodded urgently and began to usher him inside the secret room. "Bu-but! But you already know I'll be hiding here!" Hiccup had protested stupidly._   
_"Uh- I'm not IT, the guard is. So, wh-when a guard shouts your name, t-that's the only time you agree to come out, okay? Otherwise, stay here. And stay. Quiet." Eerika searched his eyes, as if pleading his understanding. "Do you. Understand?" she asked with more force, as if willing his brain to comprehend the words._   
_"y-yes Nan. I-" but the door? Wall? was already closing shut. Eerika had gestured the sign for i love you that they had devised together some days earlier to Hiccup before she took off, never to be seen again._   
_The next thing Hiccup knew, he was trembling in the dark and thinking about how he wanted Eerika to come back, to hug him and pat his hair because all he felt was how terribly terribly cold it was. Cold, cold, cold.._   
_Then he heard screams and men shouting. What's happening? He remembered asking no one in particular. He heard the unmistakeable clang of metal on metal, and he remembered the liquid that was seeping at the bottom, it was sticky and warm, he remembered laying there at the bottom of the door, desperately trying to coat himself with the sticky but warm substance. He had been so cold, but this was warm, it kept on seeping through the door, the room was so dark and cold, cold, cold..._   
_And then light. Too much of it. Hiccup thought he had gone blind, and then, he saw men. Men laying on the grass, the court, the stone, everywhere. And men in fur clothing and armor alike, strewn across the path like his neglected toys his Father had always fondly complained about._   
_And pain. Hiccup remembered the pain in his shoulder. So intense that Hiccup thought for sure that his arm must have fallen out. He remembered being pulled about the yard and thrown across the damp floor. It was wet with that same sticky warm subs- blood. It was blood. So red. He did not want to look at his hands, still sticky and warm, so he looked up. He saw his Uncle's face, glaring at him beneath the sun. Hiccup felt immediate relief at seeing a familiar face. Spitelout wasn't the kindest to Hiccup, but he has to know what's going on, where his father was, and why there were men laying everywhere with blood flooding on the floor._   
_"Uncle! I-I-uh-Uncle, where's Father? Where's my Nan-" Spitelout backhanded him across the face. Hiccup had been shocked into silence, falling once again across the stone floor._   
_"Yer Father is no more, lad. Yer his heir, ye better act like it!"_   
_"Wha-wh-what do you mean, Uncle Spite, th-tha-"_   
_"Yer Father is dead, lad. Do ye know what that means?"_   
_"N-no no no th-that c-"_   
_"DO YE UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS, LAD?!"_   
_"I- Yes, unc-"_   
_"Someone get the kid cleaned up. Get this mess cleaned up too. Some of ye scout for some ships and boats to send our people off. And the grandest longship we can spare for yer Chief. Make haste. We send them off to valhalla at dawn."_   
_Some years passed since then, and Hiccup had heard every theory and conspiracies as to what had happened that day, or who attacked the fortress undetected. Rumors said it was Spitelout himself, a greedy man of his own right, some even say Romans, although not so potentially believable. Whatever happened that day, whoever had been responsible for the destruction and carnage, it had cost Hiccup his Father. And his home._   
_Uncle Spitelout had lorded over him since then, overseeing his sword training and had all Hiccup's academics tutors report his progress. Despite his own son being the dullest tool in the shed. Snotlout can't even spell his name right. Although, he is good with a sword. But Hiccup had little to no problem with both, so his Uncle had allowed him some of his requests, leisures and indulgences as his Uncle would say. Hiccup got the best quality ink and paper, and tsome tools that he liked to tinker with._   
_Hiccup had little to no time for himself, or to play with Cami and Fishlegs._   
_After seeing Hiccup's aptitude for swordfighting and archery, combined with his proficiency in languages, Spitelout had began concocting plans. Hiccup's lessons began veering off the academic courses and started to become more and more barbaric, at least, for Hiccup's taste. How to kill with poisons, bludgeons, a stick, even a bowl. He had been terrible at it._   
_Until the day Spitelout had got it in his head to involve Cami. Spitelout had started small. Told Hiccup that if he didn't pass his tests with a high score, Cami would not eat for two days. Hiccup didn't believe it, how his Uncle can do such a cruel thing to a child with seemingly no remorse at all. He failed the test, so Spitelout had starved Cami for three days. Hiccup remembered how sick Cami was, how terribly, terribly thin she became after only three days of no food. Hiccup had trouble comprehending how cruel his Uncle had been, punishing Cami for what Hiccup had failed to do. From then on, Hiccup had learned to obey without questions._   


* * *

Anyway, the incident had been almost fourteen years ago. For ten of it, he has been his uncle's dog. Hiccup hated it. Hated how killing has become a task, how every life Hiccup takes, he felt a little less. Spitelout had promised Hiccup that once he turned twenty-one, the missions will stop and he will be focusing more on matters of the state. The marriage contracts will go according to plan, and Cami would be safe.  
"...Ye'd have to embrace it sooner or later, lad."  
Hiccup sighed. Just three years and four months until twenty-one and freedom. At least, some.  
"Its what you keep telling me, anyway." Hiccup stared at the rafters, wishing this conversation to be over. Spitelout glared at him, as if debating whether or not to respond to his side comment.  
"Gothi told me ye've been complaining about yer back?"  
Hiccup raised a brow. "Uh. Yeah. It's been bothering me for a while now. Why do you ask?"  
"Nothing." Spitelout stared at Hiccup for a moment longer, before adding, "Just make sure it doesn't interfere with yer work."  
"oh-kay." Hiccup pursed his lips, eagerly waiting for a dismissal.  
"Ye have anything te say?"  
"No. No. I-uh.. Do you?"  
"Actually, I do. It has come te my attention that a certain black cat has been seen around the Fortress. Anything te do with that?"  
"I.. Well-"  
"Ye know I don't tolerate animals beside our horses, lad?"  
Hiccup, exasperated, "Wha- What even is your deal with animals? They're harmless, they don't do anything! This is bordering on silly!"  
"Don't question me, lad! This is one small thing I ask of ye!"  
"YES! Besides making me KILL PEOPLE, that's what!"  
Spitelout smirked wickedly. "YES. And I know ye still remember why ye do what I tell ye." Hiccup balled his fists and ground his teeth. Spitelout chuckled and sat back on Stoic's chair. He began perusing the papers strewn about his desk, then looked up at Hiccup, as if only remembering he was still there."Lad, what are ye waiting for, Snoggletog? Scram."  
Hiccup was almost to the doors when Spitelout said, "oh, and by the way Hiccup, ye've met our newest friend from the kitchens today, didn't ye? Why don't ye give 'em a proper welcome?"  
Hiccup hadn't bothered to turn around. He just opened and closed the door, leaving wordlessly.


	2. Hiccup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This happens after Hiccup's trip to the kitchens with the new maid(Astrid) and before Spitelout's meeting with Hiccup in Stoic's study.

That maid.  
She looked so.. Familiar. For the lack of better word. Blonde hair. Clear blue eyes. Tall, slim body. So much like... Cami. _Could it possibly be-?_ He had never seen Cami's sister before. At least, not in person. Many a tapestry and painting were made in her likeness. Hiccup had seen some of them from Cami's letters from Bog.  
_She definitely_ is _quite skilled to have infiltrated the fortress this deep. Although, it might be that Spitelout only let her in._ No one with eyes as sharp as hers would be a mere serving girl. One thing was for certain, she was there to check Hiccup out. _If she really_ is _Astrid, it would only be a matter of time before Spitelout knows she's here. If he hasn't already._  
His uncle might appear stupid to the common eye, but he was cunning and vicious. Hiccup knew first hand just how much. And Spitelout takes pride in the fortress being so impregnable from the start of his reign as the Acting Chief.


	3. Camicaze

It had been a while since she had any real fun. Hiccup was always busy, doing whatever it was that occupied his time nowadays and Fish had a whole Fortress to feed, working in the kitchens when he was not eating the food himself.  
Ever since the day Stoic had died and the Fortress had been ransacked, she had been mostly left to her own devices.  
So she entertained herself. Sneaked out to the village and pickpocketed from snotty merchants, bought little trinkets she can smuggle back. Although, that had gotten quite boring.  
So she turned to who she hated the most. First it was her Nana. Nana Hilda had hit Cami, and it had stung for days. So Cami snuck spiders on her bed spreads. The resulting screams were music to her ears. Cami snorted aloud, thinking of the vivid memory. And then, it was the Guard at the Fortress gates. He had reported Cami's nightly trip outside the gates, and Cami had been punished. She had been starved for three days. There were other, petty grievances she had settled over the years.  
They were all thrilling, if not rewarding. But none moreso than terrorizing Spitelout. He had monopolized Hiccup from the very start of his stay in the Fortress, denying Hiccup of his childhood, and by association, Cami's.  
Cami had stolen a bunch of Spitelout's gold. It had been lying around his study, it would have been a shame to leave them behind. She had also burned holes on some of his clothing and furs, not that he'd mind. He had plenty more.  
But the most exhilirating yet were Spitelout's chamberpots. It had been her routine to hide frogs, spiders, snakes, and other hideous beasts that can fit in there. He always screamed like a little girl, the armpit-smelling muttonhead. Cami snorted aloud again.  
"Cami!" she turned around to see Hiccup, thin and lanky and bony where she had curves. "you missed breakfast."  
Cami scrunched up her nose, "I did."  
"Uncle Spite will bitch about that, you know."  
"I know. I just didn't want to see his frowny face so early in the morning."  
"You bet. He's getting ugly from all that frowning."  
"Ah. I can't wait until he screams his arse off when he sees what I snuck in his chamberpot."  
"Anyway, catch you later, got a meeting with good ol' Uncle." Hiccup couldn't quite meet her eye.  
Cami, more worried than suspicious, wished him, "Good luck, then."  
"Yeah, see ya."  
Cami watched him disappear through the stone arch with Spitelout's servant. Cami had a sneaking suspicion about Hiccup's meetings with Spitelout.  
Since Stoic's death, Spitelout had kept Hiccup busy with various tutors and master swordsmen, never allowing Hiccup too much time for himself.  
It worried Cami. Her almost-brother. He was so full of smiles, the timid little thing. Always hurrying after her. Always "Cami! Cami!" Hiccup befriended her, even though she had always been broody and rebellious, being so far away from her family, nothing but furs to comfort her, no Mother's touch to console me, nor a sister to play with.  
She hiked up her skirts and sneaked out back, out of sight.  


* * *

_Hiccup had sneaked away from his Nana, feeding animals in the shadow passages the servants rarely used._   
_Cami had stumbled upon him by chance, while she was exploring the fortress. With a Nana so old, she could've sworn she heard Nana Hilda's bones creak everytime she sat, or pulled Cami along for a walk, so Cami had no other choice than to look around and explore the place she's bound within._   
_She watched him from behind. She had been full of petty hatred then, for the man who took her from her family, from her warm fur blankets that her sister had sown, from the cold stone walls and her mother's cold comforts._   
_She was filled with hatred for this child, this child not so unlike her but has the luxury to grow up where he belonged._   
_She knew some animals weren't tolerated inside the fortress. So out of spite, she had pointed a guard in his direction, praying to all the gods he be punished, to feel some small part of the pain she felt so deeply._   
_And he had. He was beaten and bruised the next time she saw him. Some small part of her was glad, but the moment she realized what she had done, she had been sickened at herself, at her cruelty._   
_She wanted to take it all away, to somehow undo what had been done._   
_That day, Cami had observed Hiccup from afar, seeing him wince before speaking or eating, his small gasps of pain as his Nana lifted him up to her arms._   
_At one point, his Nana had brought him to bed early. So Cami had snuck near his window. Cami had seen him inhale sharply through his teeth, pools of water forming in his eyes. He had cried when he thought no one had been watching._   
_And then Cami had almost fallen off the ledge, and she had to grab hold of the window sill, to Hiccup's surprise. By the time she pulled herself up, Hiccup was smiling at her, his tears hastily wiped away. "What are you doing?" he had asked, as if not a minute ago he had been bawling his eyes out from the pain._   
_Cami understood then that Hiccup really was not unlike her. Hiccup was the same as Cami, outsiders in a cruel world of violence, hatred and bloodshed. Perhaps, even Cami had been luckier than Hiccup. Cami knew her family would never beat her. But here, they treat Hiccup as though he was not one of their own._   
_From then on, she put up with Hiccup, played with him and his friend from the kitchens, Fishlegs. They had been close as kids._   


* * *

She was always alone, so she had time to reminisce. Time to grieve the moments she had lost with her real and adopted family.  
The time to go has drawn nearer than she thought, and Hiccup was growing farther and farther away from the Hiccup of her childhood.  
Now, as she looked at Hiccup's back from the window of Spitelout's study, startling from the sudden raised voices, and the horrifying news that came with it, _You're starting to belong here, Hiccup._


	4. Hiccup and Cami

He knew Cami had been listening.  
Years of being an assassin hasn't been for nothing. Cami's perfume had given her away.  
He had poured Spitelout wine to mask her scent. If she was found out, knowing what she could have heard, she would be thrown into the dungeons. Alive, but still.  
Hiccup can't help but cringe inwardly as Spitelout had carried on the conversation. He didn't plan for Cami to find out this way. _Just why did she have to eavesdrop now?_  
He had to warn her, somehow. And this was the only way.  
Hiccup has to lose another person. This is for the best. He just hoped Cami had enough sense not to investigate further.  
He had to protect Cami. He had promised. If it meant Cami hating him, then so be it.  
He closed the door behind him after Spitelout's rude dismissal. He still had things to sort out, after all.  


* * *

The night has begun to fall and Hiccup threw his cloak around him. Silently, he opened the hidden door in the dresser beside his bed. Spitelout had given him a room which had a hidden passage to the outside. Made his assignments easier to conceal, he had said. Stupid. _Made my transactions easier too._ The aqueducts that led outside were unguarded and concealed.  
By the time he made it out, as expected, it was already dark outside, to his advantage.  
What Hiccup didn't expect, was Cami sitting on the edge of the water, short blonde hair glistening under the light of the moon. She was smirking at Hiccup.  
 _Smirking?_  
 _Wasn't she listening? Hiccup was sure she was there. Hiccup was prepared for screaming, crying, and attempted murder of himself, surely, but not a.. Smirk?_  
"Camicaze?"  
"Oh my dear Hiccup, you know you can't hide anything from me?"  
"I.. Cami. I'm sorry. I-"  
"I know what you did."  
Hiccup looked away. Ashamed. "I know. I knew you were listening. I'm sorry doesn't even cover it. You weren't supposed to fin-"  
"Of course it doesn't! you idiot. Why didn't you tell me? We could've found another way!" she was messing with Hiccup at this point. _Well he deserved it. Kind of. This poor liar._ Cami thought.  
Hiccup looked around, alarmed by Cami's voice suddenly rising, afraid of being found by the guards. Time was running, and callous it may be to the grieving Cami, he has to go. _Should I knock her out?_ Hiccup contemplated. _It shouldn't be too hard.. Just one dart-_  
"Don't even think. Of knocking me out. You muttonhead!"  
Startled, Hiccup hastily let go of his arrow dart. Cami was scary when she's mad. He has to act fast.  
"I know you're meeting my Mom. So take me with you."  
"wh-I-I-how di- huuh?"  
"I told you, you can't hide anything from me, you idiot. Take me with you or I'll scream."  
"Was it that easy to figure out?"  
"yeah. But, to be honest, this was a gamble. I kind of knew you had.. Odd jobs here and there.. But I didn't know it involved killing. Thievery, maybe. Information gathering, most likely. So I decided to gamble. It was either you killed her or not. For the record, I bet on you being too soft to do it." she smiled. "If.. If it turned out you really did kill her... Well. We wouldn't be talking right now."  
"yeah. I bet we wouldn't." still pleasantly surprised, Hiccup asked, "so what gave me away?"  
"the pigeon mail, of course. I bet you told my mother to keep me out of it, didn't you? Well she didn't exactly did a good job. I mean, a message of her death in her own hand writing? I mean, come on, Hiccup, give me a little credit here."  
Hiccup laughed softly. So Cami knows now. She knows I kill for Spitelout. Maybe not Bertha, but everyone else were dead. But all Hiccup felt was.. Relief?  
That he didn't have to lie to Cami, that he didn't have to carry this burden alone anymore. But more importantly, that Cami understood. She understood that this wasn't the life Hiccup wanted, but was pushed upon him by his birth.  
Cami moved to hug Hiccup, who was still trembling with relief. "It's okay now. It must have been tough, Hic," feeling Hiccup's tears starting to wet her tunic. "We'll have to figure this all out together now, all right? No more hiding anything from me."  
Hiccup just cried silently on Cami's shoulder. Cami has been more of a family to him all these years, he couldn't count the times Cami had protected him, being punished in his stead.  
Cami was relieved. That small hope wasn't misguided after all. _My Hiccup was still a hiccup. Still the outsiders of this world, after all._  


* * *

"Astrid will be on her way here. It would be better for her to be in the dark. Let her find out when the time is right. To be honest, I barely know her, so this might be the best course of action."  
Hiccup nodded. "I agree. We can't trust her yet. And Cami, don't forget to act as if you're still grieving. Spitelout may be stupid at times, but.. Well. You can't be too careful."  
"Ugh. Hiccup. You're as bad as that rickety old Nana of mine. We've been through this. I'm not a child. I know what I have to do." playfully punching Hiccup in his arm. "now lets get moving. I want to see my mom."  
"About that.."  
"ohh I think I don't like where that is going."  
"I just think its better if you don't know where she is, I mean if you get interrogated, you won't give her away, since you don't know where she is. I could deliver a lette-"  
"I'm sick of letters Hiccup." staring him in eye,"for all these years, my family were just letters. Words on a paper from a chiefdom I haven't seen enough of. Let me see her, Hic, please."  
Staring at her determined eyes, Hiccup knew what ever he does, she won't back down. Well, it was worth a try.  
"It was worth a try. Let's go. Tread lightly, lest we be seen by civillians. Or worse, my uncle's guards."


	5. Astrid

_Four days earlier._  
It was Astrid's third time to ride a longboat.  
The first was to drop Cami off on Berk. And second was on the way home from Berk. She didn't remember much from that trip. Just the way that the longboat danced in the waves.  
She hadn't liked it then, and she sure didn't like it now. Astrid had trouble trusting her life to drunk sailors who sung while they worked.  
Looking at the horizon, Raven's Point in view, the only thing in Astrid's mind was obligation. She might be a good general and tactician, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want peace. She was here for a purpose, and she will see that purpose fulfilled.  
With Bertha dead, Cami on Berk, and Astrid on her way to Berk, Bog is completely open for the taking. Astrid needs to secure alliance with Berk through marriage with the Berkian Prince, and send Cami back on her way to Bog, where she can be crowned as heir to Bertha's empty throne.  
Astrid wasn't ignorant in the concept of marriage, Bertha and some of her friends had educated her on love and pleasure. It has proven to be quite complicated when you're a royal engaged to be married to a foreign prince. Love has no place in a political marriage. Which was fine with her.  
Yes, dalliances have happened in the past, and some pleasures in bed were not unknown to Astrid. She wasn't scared of her duty to produce a proper heir. Astrid didn't mind about love, either, so long as she can fulfill her duty to her people, that will be enough.  
Although, Astrid was never one to blindly obey. She had to know what kind of person she was marrying. What kind of people and culture belonged to Berk.  
She can't just marry into the Berkian Royals and not know what to expect. Plus, a few days of freedom won't hurt.  
Then, she can decide whether or not to proceed with marriage.  
If she found any flaws that made Berk unsavory.. well. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, spy work.  


* * *

_1 day earlier._  
Standing in the corner in maid's clothing, Astrid was careful to step lightly and noiselessly, sticking to the shadows and keeping her head down.  
She hadn't seen the prince, or any entourage, for that matter.  
The palace guards had nothing sour to tell about the prince, and all the maids had been babbling about his friendliness towards them, helping them out and such.  
It was disappointing, to be honest. She came here expecting servants to run their mouth on his ugly personality, unsavory habits and dirty laundry, but all she's heard was them singing praises about how great he was.  
Although, when asked about the other royals, now, they had a lot to say about that. Especially about the Acting Chief, the Prince's Uncle. _Not the most well-loved monarch of all time._  
Though most complain about how strict he was with the prince, and how his punishments were quite harsh.  
Moreso on servants and commoners were flogged on his wishes, and failure to comply on his laws means banishment or death.  
The main information Astrid had gathered was that the prince sometimes goes missing for days, only to eventually turn up the next morning like nothing happened. Sometimes, bruises or injury were evident, and one time, he had returned almost half dead, claiming to have lost his way through the forest while on a haunt, and encountering a bear.  
Suspicious, so Astrid can't dismiss this particular rumor, especially when Astrid's luck had placed her in the right timing. The prince has been missing for days on the excuse that his Uncle, Spitelout, had given him an errand.  
 _An errand to which requires a prince? Surely nothing can be_ that _important?_  
The maids were quite sure that the prince returns at night near the shadow passages, passages that had come to Astrid's knowledge were unused narrow pasaages that had been previosly used by the servants. Although none had seen him coming out of it.  
It was well past three in the morning when a figure clad in simple tunic and trousers came out of the passage. Astrid was careful not to make any sudden movements.  
She wasn't sure if this was the Prince, but if it was, she wasn't going to miss a chance to learn more about him and his suspicious activities. After making sure he was a few paces ahead of her, she followed him through the kitchens. He gathered some fishes and left for a small chamber near the gardens.  
It must be his rooms.  
She crouched near one of the windows and waited until the room had gone quiet.  
Peeking inside, Astrid didn't know what she expected, but not this room with meager belongings and a cat trying to find a way out of the small basket that was earlier filled with mackerels.  
She also didn't expect the man to be sleeping with his head hanging slightly on the edge if his bed, as if he didn't quite make it to the bed and collapsed near it instead.  
Keeping her eyes on the man, Astrid clicked her tongue. And then, so suddenly, he sat up, alert and eyes wild, searching for the source of the unfamiliar sound. Astrid immediately ducked out of sight and noiselessly trodded to the maid's chambers.  
Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. _No prince would be that high on alert. No prince would have that large a room with practically no furniture to speak of._  


* * *

_Present day._  
The next morning she was assigned to serve the Acting Chief breakfast. If she's lucky, the Prince will also be there.  
She was quite disappointed with the lack of security in the Fortress. _It doesn't quite live up to its name if it's_ this _easy to infiltrate, does it?_  
After setting the table, the huge oak doors to the dining hall opened to reveal a stout, dark-haired man wearing a perpetual frown, as if he was angry at the world for yet again another day to have breakfast. So this was Spitelout. His eyes swept across the room. Astrid could have sworn they locked eyes for a second. Good thing her hair was kept hidden under her headdress. It must be her imagination, though, since Spitelout proceeded to eat his breakfast in gloomy silence.  
A few minutes into breakfast, the prince was still nowhere to be seen. After another few, a young man eating an apple stepped into the dining hall and greeted the acting chief.  
Huh. So this must be the well-praised prince of Berk I've heard so much about. Quite anticlimactic, if I were to tell the truth. Lanky, awkwardly tall. Auburn hair. Nice ass, though. Got a sarcastic mouth on him too.  
After eating, the acting chief left wordlessly. The prince didn't seem to mind.  
When the prince finished his breakfast, Astrid moved to clean up after him, when he started doing that himself. She froze in puzzlement and stared at what he was doing. She must have looked horrified because he laughed.  
"Hi, I take it you're new here?"  
"I.. yes.." his eyes..  
"my Prince." she hurriedly added, "I was introduced to the kitchens only three days ago."  
"Oh, no need for titles with me. I really don't care for any of that. When its just you and me or with other staff, it's fine to call me Hiccup."  
What a strange name. "oh no, I don't dare be that presumptuous!"  
"It's not presumptuous, it's making a friend. I would want a friend to call me by my name. Ask anyone, they know this about me." smiling at Astrid, he added,"Come on," they continued on to the kitchens with him still holding the tray of plates and finally putting it down near one of the wash basins.  
"Hey Hicc! How are ya? You've been gone three days! Ya should'a seen your Uncle brood about the Fortress!" Fishlegs, the cook, shook his head. "If I didn't know the Chief any better, I would'a thought he was worried!"  
Was it Astrid's imagination, or did a shadow just pass over his face? "Nah, if he's worried, it won't be about me." Fishlegs snorted his agreement.  
Fish was the husky young man who cooked in the Fortress kitchens. Astrid had come to like his awkwardness and his seriousness when food was being prepared.  
"I'm fine, back to having small banters with the Best Uncle in the Archipelago, nothing too serious yet, though." Hiccup chuckled, to Astrid's surprise. _He seems quite easygoing._  
"Good for you. Just leave those here," eyeing the tray of plates he had put down. "I know you still have training to do."  
"Thanks, Fish." and then, winking at the Astrid who was silently observing the easy conversation, Prince Hiccup left the kitchens.  
With no excuse to follow him there, and her fake duties needing to be done, she turned to the plates and stared at them, wishing she had taken on some other job than a serving girl.  
"Hey, girl, don't just stand there, clean those plates! We gotta start preparing lunch, you know! Ya don't wanna see that chief when he's hungry." Fishlegs encouragingly said, spurring Astrid into action.


	6. Bonus Chapter: Cami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be going into detail on how Cami figured out Hiccup's plans.

Mama was dead.  
Hiccup, the boy of her childhood, had done it.  
Spitelout had said so. Cami was trembling. She covered her mouth, she was having trouble controlling her breathing. If she wasn't careful, Spitelout will hear her. So carefully, carefully, she pushed herself off the wall, walking as silently as she could manage. Once she was out of earshot, she stopped. 

It had to be a lie. Hiccup, so sweet and kind, can never kill anyone. Hiccup loved animals. Hiccup couldn't have killed mama, much less anyone.  
Yes. It had to be a lie. She would find out. She walked slowly to her door, praying to all the gods it was a lie. Praying so hard for the first time in a very long time, that a letter from home won't arrive.

But it had. 

It was waiting for her, on her desk. Rolled yellowing parchment. Small. As if it was the only paper they could manage. A pigeon mail. So it could arrive as fast as it could.  
She stared at it for a long while. Dreading, yet knowing, what words whe would find.  
After finding enough courage to confirm what she already knew, she unrolled the parchment.  
_"The table has turned. Valhalla has welcomed Bertha, Cami."_

* * *

Cami startled. It was in her mother's handwriting. Hastily written, but her mother's, nonetheless. Written in the third person?  
A knock sounded at her door. Cami hastily hid the letter in her sleeves, carefully concealing it within her furs.  
Cami opened the door to a servant holding a tray, containing a larger parchment paper, sealed with the insignia of her home. An official letter.  
She accepted the letter and thanked the servant.  
Another letter. She broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. An official letter saying that Bertha has left this world and into valhalla. 

_Odd._

This was the letter she was expecting. Not the small one in her own mother's hand writing.  
Valhalla had been mentioned in both letters. But the official letter said nothing about tables turning. 

Was her mother trying to tell her something? 

Could it mean the Bog chiefdom was in the brink of war? Or did her mother suspect being assassinated? Was it a betrayal? Maybe that was why it talked about tables turning.  
Of course it was. Despite being here, despite having to grow up away from home, her mother had been killed. By the person Cami had spent protecting all her life. If that's the case, then what else was she doing here? What other purpose does she serve by being here! This is meaningless! If only they could have let her go, if only she could have felt once more her mother's arms around her.  
_If only Hiccup could have died back then!_  
Cami abruptly stopped crying. Her thoughts had startled her. _That's not true.. Is it?_ Does she really want Hiccup to have died then? "what am I saying? He's as much of a puppet as I am.. Oh Hiccup, what have you done?" Cami wondered aloud.  
This wasn't the time for crying. She had to think carefully. Her mother was trying to tell her something, and it was her job to figure it out.  
Cami knew now for sure that Spitelout and Hiccup had caused this assassination. 'But why? I'm here, what else do they want from the Bogs?'  
Cami knew one thing, though. She has to be careful. She could be next.There's no use for her now, is there?  
...  
She spent the rest of the day in her chambers. All of that time used in trying think of something that she might have missed in the letter.  
Looking at the smaller parchment, some things came to mind.  
If her mother had written the first parchment, two theories will arise.  
_One, that Bertha knew she would be betrayed and killed and sent the letter on ahead to warn me of the danger I am in._ If this was true, Cami has to find out if her mother had hidden any allies within the Fortress walls. Bertha was cunning, and she never left anything to chance. A spy or two should be easy enough to deploy and hide among the many servants of the fortress. Although, if Spitelout had been breeding Assassins all this while, it stands to reason that any spies Bertha could have sent to watch over Cami and gather information might long be dead.  
_Two, Bertha might still be alive,_ and wanted to warn Cami about Spitelout's betrayal. But if this was true, that would mean that Hiccup had also betrayed his uncle by leaving Bertha alive and instructing her to hide and fake her death. Knowing Hiccup's personality, this isn't impossible. However improbable it may be, the possibility still exists. Cami knew it was wishful thinking. Maybe she still held some small hope that Hiccup didn't do it, despite hearing it from him.  
Another, is that some events will be set in motion by Bertha's death. Spitelout would not have had her killed if Berk or he himself will not benefit from it. But what does he want, exactly?

_Power?_

But after Bertha's death, the Bog throne would be empty, and I, as the heir, will have to go back and assume the throne. Spitelout has no claims on Bog. So why?  
Astrid. Cami has forgotten. If Cami was to go back to Bog, Astrid would have to marry Hiccup to ensure lasting peace between chiefdoms. But this doesn't make Spitelout any more powerful than he is now. Instead, it just secures Hiccup the throne. Why would Spitelout want Hiccup on the throne? He has it for himself now, so why?

* * *

Cami decided it was time to gamble. Its either he killed Bertha or not.  
She knew the Fortress inside and out, including secret passages hidden in the walls.  
She was aware that Hiccup had a separate room which had a secret passage leading outside through the old sewer system of the Fortress.  
_If he were to hide Bertha, following Hiccup's way of thinking, he might have hidden her in the last place anyone would have looked, the village nearest the fortress._  
_If he had to hurry back to the fortress this morning, provisions for my mother should be low. If I'm correct, he should be sneaking out to replenish my mother's supply so she can be left to her own devices for a while. Quite stupid, if you ask me. Still too soft, Hic._ She thought, as a smirk slowly found its way on her lips.


	7. Cami

They walked through the Lower Town silently, careful to blend among the people who, done with their work, were going home for the day.  
They reached a small cottage near the border of the forest. Hiccup knocked at the door and made a choking noise with his throat.  
" _Hiccup, what in Odin's trousers are you doing?_ " Cami whispered rather loudly.  
" _Shush_ just wait." Cami narrowed her eyes at Hiccup and waited. And waited. There was a noise like arguing inside, when two figures, who were still clutching and pulling at each other's hair, opened the door.  
"H! _My maaaan_!" one slurred. "Hiccup! Back so soon?" the other exclaimed. Cami raised a brow at Hiccup. _This is ridiculous._  
" _Shush guys, keep it down,_ " Hiccup whispered nervously, looking around to check if anyone heard them.  
" _Riiiiiiiiiight_ Is he okay?" the first one, who Cami observed was a male, whispered conspiratorially at her, pointing his thumb in Hiccup's direction. "Because if he's not, I mean, maybe we can remedy tha _AAAAAA-_ " he screamed as Hiccup had twisted his hand to his back, nearly popping the arm off the poor man's shoulder.  
" _Now_ can you let us in?" Hiccup said as he released the male and promptly went in.  
"I am hurt, I am very much hurt!" announced the male while cradling his arm.  
"Is everything all right? Is she well? Did you give her food, blanket? Clothing? Did you even offer her a bath?"  
"Ugh, don't be such a tyrant, H, we did everything you told us to do _perfectly_." she told Hiccup while locking the front door and drawing the curtains.  
"H, care to introduce us to your lady friend? I mean, we already know her, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't know us yet. To be honest I'm hurt you haven't even told her about us. I'm hurt Hic," he repeated, to add a dramatic flare to his statement, and added, "so much betrayal in this cloak and sword world."  
"Right. Pretty sure its 'cloak and _dagger_ ', but whatever." Hiccup deadpanned. "Cami, this is Tuffnutt Thorston," pointing to the male who had braids for beard, "and this is Ruffnutt Thorston. As you can already guess, they're twins. And unfortunately, the only ones we can trust to harbor Bertha at the moment."  
At this remark, the twins both gave Hiccup the evil eye.  
"Such a pleasure to meet the Chief's ward," he drawled out, while taking Cami's hand to kiss it. "Thank you for gracing our humble abode with your _presencia._ " he said this while throwing his arms out in a sweeping gesture.  
"Same here, lady." said Ruffnutt, rather curtly, licking her hand and offering it to Cami to shake.  
Cami alarmingly looked at Hiccup who shrugged, clearly enjoying the exchange. Cami begrudgingly took Ruffnutts hand and shook it, nose crinkling in disgust. "Yes. Right. Pleasure." 

It was evident that Hiccup and these.. people are somewhat.. close. For one, he trusted them enough to hide Bertha, apparently. Not that it sets Cami's worries to rest. They aren't looking the most responsible and reliable type to Cami. But if Hiccup trusts they can keep this huge a secret, then so be it.  
"okay. Nothing flammable on you except your hair, body and clothes?" Cami looked at Ruffnutt, dumbfounded. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Alright! I'll take that as a no. Into the hole you go!"  
Hiccup shook his head and laughed softly at Cami's reaction.  
"Ruff and Tuff, keep watch."  
"yeah whatever." Tuffnutt drolled, and then whisper added, " _Tyrant._ "  
"I heard that."

* * *

Moments later, the four of them moved the dining table to one side of the room and the male rolled the rug underneath it to reveal a trapdoor. It wasn't surprising, really. What shocked Cami was after going down the trapdoor, there were so much explosives, weapons of any leangth and kind, and then some more. Again, a trapdoor rests under one of the barrels. Some flickering light, probably a candle, was streaming through the cracks in the wood. A faint humming can be heard from below. Hiccup knocked at the wood and the humming abruplty stopped. Opening the trapdoor, they dropped down a loft, revealing a large space beneath, complete with a kitchen, dining area, sleeping area and a small room which is most probably the privy. But standing on the loft, eyes fixated on Cami, was a woman in her late forties, blonde hair highlighted with a smattering of white.

"Mama?"  
"Cami?" uttered Bertha, pleasantly shocked in seeing her eldest daughter.  
For a moment, no one moved. Cami stared at her mother, the lines on her forehead, the little crinkles in her eyes, as she, too, regarded Cami with those clear blue eyes, she seemed sad, almost.  
"Hiccup?" Hiccup added, the sarcastic little thing. And just like that, the moment was broken, Cami laughed and ran towards Bertha, hugging her with the intensity of her fifteen years of longing. 

"Is it really you?" Bertha considered Cami, "How have you been? Oh my darling girl, you look so beautiful." Bertha raised her hands to stroke Cami's cheek. Oh, how she missed this.  
"I'm fine, it's been lonely without you and Astrid, but I get by. And Hiccup has been good to me." Cami, looking to Hiccup, willing her eyes to express just how grateful she was to him for saving her mother's life.  
"So he has." looking at the boy, standing timidly by the ladder that led outside. So young. "Come here, boy."  
"Me?"  
"Who else, Hic?" Cami told him in humorous laughter.  
Hiccup took Cami and Bertha's inviting hands and strpped closer.  
"You have been more of a family to her than I ever was. For that, I am grateful. For my life, too, of course. This isn't _the_ most ideal situation, "she said, her eyes shining with mirth, "but I _am_ alive. You have done so much for our family. We can't thank you enough, truly."  
"oh its.. Its nothing. I mean its not nothing, your- uh- life is not nothing, I mean.. I'd do anything for Cami. She's also more like the family that I never had." this, Cami knew, was true. Countless were the times that Hiccup had wondered aloud that if only _he_ could have been the one sent to Bog to be Bertha's ward instead, it would have done him a world of good. Cami felt for him.  
"You know, I can never ask for a better son-in-law." Bertha teased.  
Hiccup sputtered, "uhh thats, I-uh ahem." Hiccup composed himself. "Why don't we sit down, I have some news to tell you both."

* * *

"I have reason to suspect, that Astrid is in the Fortress."  
Cami snorted. "No, you're wrong, I would have known."  
"Would you?" Hiccup asked carefully. "I mean, you haven't seen her for fifteen years."  
"Oh, and _you_ would?" Cami asked, incredulously.  
"You said you have reason to suspect this, why, may I ask?" Bertha recounted.  
"There was a new maid, at breakfast-"  
"Are you saying, that my Daughter, a princess of Bog, has been made to work as a mere serving girl?!"  
"Let me finish, please." Hiccup said with his hands in the air, a placating gesture. "This.. Maid, she had blonde hair, blue eyes, and almost the same stature and build as Cami." looking at Cami, "Albeit taller. She had a round-ish face, and sharp eyes." Hiccup waited a moment, before adding, "Does any of what I just decribed to you fit Astrid in any way at all?"  
"What do you mean, _taller_?" Cami challenged.  
Bertha paled, looking at Cami, as if confirming if she really had the same build as Astrid, and she nodded.  
Hiccup closed his eyes and sighed. "I had hoped not. Assuming it _is_ her, it seems that she entered the fortress ahead of time to maybe check the fortress out, spy on things. Observe. This could potentially end badly for her." Then, meeting Bertha and Cami's confused eyes, He added, "Because I also have reason to believe that Spitelout already knows."  
" _what?_ " She asked, distraught.  
"And also, uh you should know, that uh _Spiteloutorderedmetotakecareoftheguestwhichbasicallymeanstopreparethedungeons_ " Hiccup said as fast as he could.  
" _What?!, Cami said, "You should have led with that!"_  
"I agree! You should have. This means she's in danger."  
Hiccup shook his head. "Spitelout isn't unreasonable. He would probably throw her in there two, maybe three days, so she can think about what she's done." meeting Bertha's gaze, "A show of power. So she knows she only got in, because she was _let in._ "  
Cami and Betha heaved a relieved sigh. _That girl. I'm proud of her, but the things she does might well be the end of me._ Bertha thought solemnly.

* * *

They agreed that Cami has to lay low for a while, considering that in Spitelout's point of view, Cami is a threat that can easily be disposed of.  
They also thought that it would be smarter if they will not visit Bertha for a while, to Cami's disappointment. But she knew it was the safest course of action. She didn't have to like it, though.  
Hiccup also told them that it would be better if they all used that time apart thinking of what might Spitelout's plan be, starting with what Bertha's quote unquote _death_.

* * *

For the rest of the night, at least the time they can spare between getting back and th break of dawn, Hiccup let Cami and Bertha to catch up with each other. He climbed up to the ground floor and checked up on Ruff and Tuff's provisions and security.  
For some time, Bertha and Cami talked about all sorts of things, the men in their lives, Astrid, Bog, but mostly of what their lives had been apart.  
After a while, Hiccup had knocked on the trapdoor, signaling that it was time to depart.  
Bertha and Cami bid their goodbyes with Cami promising to come back another time. When it was _safe_.  
And so, for the first time in fifteen years, Cami had slept soundly, dreaming of her mother's touch.


	8. Spitelout

He was butt drunk.  
It was not the first, and it surely won't be the last.

Playing with the bejeweled dagger he found lying around the library, he has no idea why a dagger would be hiding in such a place and not in the armory, but it was pretty, and might he be so bold to say, _fit for a Chief...-tess._ He sighed. It might have belonged to the long dead Valka. He doesn't care. _Finders keepers_. A petty sentiment, but who was there to reprimand him? 

He was sitting on Stoic's chair, carving Stoic's table, in... Hm, guess where? _in fookin' Stoic's study._ Everywhere he looked, _his_ things were constantly a pest. A reminder that all _this_ , this power, position, and castle will never have been Spitelout's if Stoic hadn't gotten it in his _thick skull_ that he can't fight with things not of this world, and _win_. _Blasted heroism_. Valka had been the same. And, if Spitelout's luck holds, so would their son be. 

_I fookin' told him. I thought she had been suspicious._ But Stoic did not listen. He had gone soft, complacent and content with his wife and son. Spitelout understood. He had his own son, too. Not one with the most ideal intelligence, but his son, nonetheless. A father has no choice but to love his children. _However dull they may be._ He sighed, and took another swig of his mead. 

These days, Hiccup can be a prat. Just that morning, he deliberately shouted his reply just to irk Spitelout and mess with his blooming headache. _The bastard_. If only the boy had been quicker to obey and less sarcastic, Hiccup would have been quite agreeable.

Hiccup had been complaining about his back. Gothi, the court physician and resident crone of the Fortress, had told Spitelout of this development. As old as the crone was, she was bound to know almost everything, from History to current gossip. He rolled his eyes. She had eyes and ears everywhere.

 _It's too soon._

_It_ should still be laying dormant still, what with the tinctures Spitelout had ordered Gothi to prescribe Hiccup to help repress whatever curse was stirring under the boy's skin. _This shouldn't have been a problem, not until he's turned 21._ In a frustrated fit, he threw the dagger across the room and embedded itself on one of the tomes on the bookshelf.

All this was eating him alive. Now that the plan was in action, he has to do everything he can so that it _stays_ in action. 

To Spitelout's knowledge, Hiccup still has no idea on how his parents died. Stoic's death isn't exactly public knowledge, and Valka.. well she was most likely dead from _that_. The truth was, they had lost many men that day. There had been so much blood that it had stayed on the Fortress's walls for years before finally fading. Spitelout doesn't know if Hiccup still remembers the day he was dragged out from one of the locked gates in the catacombs, to meet Spitelout in a courtyard of blood and gore. He doesn't know if, at that very young age, he noticed that none of the dead men were enemies. They had all been Berk's knights, guards and men. It had been the most well known massacre of their time. 

There had been many theories and conspiracy as to what occured that day, but all those who survived to see the next had been sworn to secrecy, and anyone who dared speak a word about it would be charged with treason, at the pain of death. 

Spitelout had been out hunting that day. He was riding his favored horse, Sleipnir, when a messenger ran breathlessly to them, and told them that the Fortress had been under attack. They rode immediately to the Fortress to provide reinforcements but found men staring blankly at the sky, blood draining from their lifeless bodies. His immediate concern had been Stoic, but he, like the others had died with a sword clutched tightly in his hand, eyes open and mouth agape.  
When they tried to move the corpses or even close their eyes, they were as hard as stone, and cold as ice. It was as if they had been dead for days and was left there to freeze, uite literally, to death. Stranger still, their blood, coming out from their ears, eyes, nose and mouth, and even their very skin, was warm. 

Spitelout instantly knew that foul things had been at play.  
He paled.

He immediately thought about Stoic's son, Hiccup. He ordered all remaining men to search the Fortress, and they had combed through every passage, every chamber, and still, they had found no trace of the boy.

Until one of the guards, having been to the chambers at the keep to ensure that Stoic's ward, Cami, and her attendant had been unharmed, reported that he had talked to Hilda, the old nanny of Stoic's ward, and she had claimed of seeing Hiccup and his attendant running in the direction of the Royal Catacombs.  
_Huh. Smart girl._ Spitelout remarked.  
Guards inspected the catacombs and to their frustration, found nothing but ancient grave markers. Superstitious as they were, they didn't think to look inside one of the gates. 

One guard, though, had heard a whimper from one of the locked gates. You see, some of the graves had important objects in them and so had to be locked up to dissuade anyone from robbing them. The locks had been especially forged for each grave. After Spitelout's permission, it had been opened to reveal Hiccup shivering and crying. His Nanny was nowhere to be found, and was never to be seen again.

That had been the first clue.

That girl had been the last to be seen with Hiccup. The lock on the gate hadn't shown any signs of tampering, which could only mean that she had a key. _If_ , by any means, she had gotten hold of a duplicate, this would mean it was premeditated and she knew _when_ the attack was going to happen. 

They had searched the Archipelago for the girl, not leaving any stone unturned, every hut and inn searched. But to no avail. Months later and the girl still hasn't been found. Spitelout called off the search. He knew it will be fruitless and a waste of resources. That girl must have been a acolyte of the old faith, a religion older than the Norse themselves, or so they claimed. Odin forbid that she had been a... _No. She couldn't have been, could she? Anyone who had the power to pass down the knowledge had all been slaughtered long ago_ , long before Spitelout had even been born.

He looked to the ceiling as a single tear ran down from his eye to his ear, remembering the screams of that day, and worse, the silence that followed in its wake.


	9. Astrid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some terms in this chapter like:  
> 1\. Riat hrsa- _ree-yath-urr-suh_  
>  A kind of tattoo composed of Nordic runes as a symbol of status and rank among the nobles of the Barbaric Archipelago.  
> 2\. Vhalla- _vah-luh_  
>  What the great priestesses of the old faith had been called. It was believed that they were the conduits of the Constants, who had the power to prophesy, and mold the future itself to their will.

She had found reason to pass through the training grounds that afternoon. She had stopped midway through the pentice, pausing as if to admire the prince and his knights. One of them, a large man with a blue toned _Riat hrsa_ on his wide chin, had conversed with Astrid.  
"Marvelous, isn't he?" he said, as if showing her his most prized mare.  
"Oh, yes my lord. Marvelous indeed." Most knights wouldn't spare a maid a glance, and she was wondering why a knight of his rank would even strike a conversation with Astrid who was still posing as a serving girl.  
"No one thought he'd become the man he is now, let me tell you that." Now, _that_ is gossip. The maids had nothing even remotely useful to say.  
"May I ask why, my lord? " she urged.  
"If anyone asks, this didn't come from me," he colluded, "but that sarcastic pole of a prince had been hopeless at anything physical as a child. To make matters even worse, he was weak and sickly and, if I may be so bold to say, too soft. He'd cry about the smallest thing! But looking at him now, you can never tell can you?"  
She distractedly nodded her agreement, _how disappointing._ This was hardly news at all, since Cami had skimmed the subject in some of her childhood letters. She gazed upon the ongoing fight, taken in by the Prince's grace with which he fought, the kind of grace that only dancers possessed. It had been almost spellbinding, the way he moved. She stood there fixated on the prince for quite some time, watching him. By this time, some of the maids had skipped their duties to gawk and ogle at the prince, to which his _"absolute divine ass"_ had been the main subject of scrutiny. Not that Astrid disagreed.  
He also basked in the attention, winking occasionally in the direction of the maids, and taunting his opponent to entertain his observers. It had been irritating, if she was being honest. He had flirted with the maids to no end. 

_He is already engaged! To me, no less! And there he was, gallivanting through the fortress like a deer in rutting heat!_ Astrid threw a chalice in the wash basin with as much force as how irritated she felt. Which was quite a lot. Water splashed and soap suds flew everywhere. _What in the nine realms am I doing?_ She lamented.

* * *

The servants were turning in for the night when she saw a cloaked figure stalking closely to the inner walls before disappearing through a shadow passage. This wouldn't have been suspicious, because the cloak the figure wore had been the same as the ones servants wore. He could easily have been one of the servants heading out to go home their families. No. What _had been_ a dead give away was the clothes hiding beneath the cloak. Long, extravagant purple dress, a hand adorned with jewels and her _Riat hrsa_. One almost identical to Astrid's own. Eyes widening at the sudden realization, she made flimsy excuses to the head servant to use the loo immediately, claiming to have a stomach bug.

As lame as the excuse was, she was not keen to lose her tail. So without waiting for a reply, she turned in the direction of the servant's privy, which was luckily in the same direction as to where she wanted to go. Strangely enough, the figure paused near one of the old aqueducts of the Fortress, found a rock, and sat on it for a good while.

She just sat there, waiting for something. _But what?_  
As if in answer to her question, another hooded figure emerged from the old waterway. He stopped abruptly, as if surprised to see someone waiting for him.

_Who. It had been a_ who _all along_. Squinting her eyes, Astrid can fairly tell that the other cloaked figure was, unsurprisingly, the Prince. _Hiccup. Huh. On to another one of your errands, perhaps? Or a secret midnight rendezvous with my sister?_

_Dammit._ She was too far to hear the exchange. 

Taking a better look at her sister, she observed that her hair had been more of a pale blonde than Astrid's.  
She had been curvy and full where Astrid was not. This was evident even with her cloak on. She was petite but slender, all the makings of a lady of the court.

Astrid had never been one to be interested in what her sister got up to.

* * *

Why would she, when she barely remembered even having a sister in the first place? She knew it was no fault of Cami to be stuck on Berk. But growing up reading letters of her sister where she droned _on and on_ about Hiccup this and that, it can get old. _A lot old._ Every month, a series of corresponding letters would arrive and go. It had been a weekly source of excitement for their mother and father, _Odin rest both their souls_. Once, Astrid had waited on each of Cami's letters, hung on its every word and delighted in its contents. Cami had always made it a point to include some small trinket for Astrid. 

They had talked about how they hated Berk for pulling them apart. How the world would have been a much better place without them. But then Cami started writing things like _"Hiccup, the chief's son might not be so bad afterall. You know, just yesterday when he..."_ and _Stoic gave me this to send to you, Astrid, it had been a rare item from the old faith, a totem of sorts, and..."_

It had been infuriating. Astrid had felt betrayed. 

Although, after observing Hiccup for just a day, she was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. He had been polite, friendly, and to be honest, quite charismatic. Ignoring his _stupid_ name, he actually seemed almost too good to be true. Except that he's also shrouded in mystery, starting with his errands and two separate chambers.

* * *

_Focus_. As she was thinking earlier, she didn't care any less about what her sister got up to. But tonight, it seems that Cami has been up to _something_ , indeed. Now Astrid was curious. _Was this a typical lovers midnight rendezvous, or was there more to what meets the eye?_

Astrid had started to feel the cold in her bones. She had hoped to dig up some dirt on Hiccup before she announced herself. Three days of listening to the servants gossipping had proven to be a waste of her time. She eyed the two.  
They had been in a tight embrace for what seemed like ages.  
She rolled her eyes. _Just a lovers rendezvous, then._ Disappointed, she was about to turn back and head inside, when finally, the two broke apart and headed for the Lower Town. 

Astrid did her best to follow them, but there were so many people in the Lower Town that she easily lost them in the crowd. Stomping her foot in frustration, she tried to place them among the people but she was in rotten luck. _Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!_  
Just when she thought she had been about to discover something truly worth knowing!


	10. Hiccup and Gothi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some terms in this chapter like:  
> 1\. Riat hrsa- _ree-yath-urr-suh_  
>  A kind of tattoo composed of Nordic runes as a symbol of status and rank among the nobles of the Barbaric Archipelago.  
> 2\. Vhalla- _vah-luh_  
>  What the great priestesses of the old faith had been called. It was believed that they were the conduits of the Constants, who had the power to prophesy, and mold the future itself to their will.

He felt a hundred times worse than he looked.  
His back has been killing him since yesterday. _Hels, it had gotten worse overnight._

He was on his way to Gothi when he passed the new maid, _a.k.a. the Maybe Astrid._  
Alert at once, he stood up straighter, walked taller. He looked directly at her, and their eyes met. The startling clear blue of her eyes caught him unawares, making him walk straight into one of the stone walls.  
" _Oompf!_ " came the unbidden sound from his mouth, earning a few snickers from the guards posted beside one of the great oak doors.  
" _Not_ a word." he threatened.  
"Smitten, are you, m'lord?" one of them grinned.  
Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the guard. He turned to see if the maid, who they supected was Astrid, was anywhere to be seen. She was still walking in the opposite direction, shoulders shaking as if in suppressed laughter.

* * *

He opened the door to Gothi's clinic. A foul smell wafted from inside and he immediately gagged and covered his nose.  
"Gothi?" he called. Smoke was gathering in the room and he went to the windows to let some fresh air in.

When suddenly, a staff came at him from behind to which he only had enough time to duck and scramble out of its path, only to stop his face from nearly plunging into what he could only conclude was the source of the foul smell.

"Gothi!" he yelped when he saw another blow coming his way.  
"Gothi! Its me!" the smoke had begun dissipating and Gothi saw Hiccup shielding his face from her staff.  
_"Oh. Right. Apologies lad. I am old and my eyes and ears are failing me." she signed to Hiccup, and added, "Now what did you come here for? Your tincture?"_  
"I still have a bit more of those. I was hoping if you could do something about my back?" he answered. "It was fine the other day, but since yesterday, it's been hurting a lot more than the last time."  
Gothi's brows creased and he motioned for Hiccup to go and sit down on one of the mattresses in the next room. And by motioned, he means whacked him in the head with her staff. 

He rolled his shoulder. He wasn't stiff at all, which was strange. His back just has this...painful prickling, much like a burning sensation. He had woken up this morning sweaty and in pain. 

Gothi arrived with several balms and glass vials and signed for Hiccup to lie face down. She gave him a tincture which she claimed was to help him relax. Downing it in one go, before he knew it, he was in a medically induced coma.

* * *

_GOTHI_  
Thank the gods that the boy had made his way in the clinic first thing in the morning. By the looks of it, he must have been in so much pain, if the runes had already faded to this extent.

 _Riat hrsa_ was a tattoo that mainly serves as a tell for a person's rank or status. They were mostly composed of the old nordic runes. 

Little did the noblemen knew today, that these markings have been passed down from the old faith itself. The younglings had no idea that the thing they most despised had been inked permanently into their skins. It had been practiced before as a way of taunting the raided acolyte tribes of the old faith. A champion's token, if you will. It was blasphemy aimed at the old faith, mocking them when they and their kin had all but died out.

But she knew many things. The _Riat hrsa_ had been sacred to the old faith for a reason. The _Riat hrsa_ used by noblemen and women today are but poor imitations of the real thing. It was all in the ink the acolyte tribes had used, the blood of the long dead dragons that populated the skies when she had been but a girl. It had been a bond forged in fire and ash, one that contained magic in each stroke, in each rune. It was what she now used to reforge the markings on Hiccup's back. She was careful to retrace each and every line as perfectly as she can.

The markings encompassed the length of his spine and measured more than a hand in width. After retracing the _Riat hrsa_ back to its proper state, it literally burns until it turns into a white color and appears as light, thin scars in the shape of runes.

Gothi had sedated him so that he will have no recollection of the 'treatment' she had just administered. He was kept in the dark in many things, the poor lad. The least she can do was make it as painless as possible for him. 

This was the fifth time this month that she had to reforge the _Riat hrsa_. Everytime it fades, the pain in his back will intensify. Such was the warning system Gothi had infused in the runes. It was imperative that the markings never faded.  
A normal legitimate _Riat hrsa_ wasn't normally one to fade. But this one, the one used on Hiccup's back was especially made to help him repress the curse that the ancient _Vhallas_ had placed on him upon his birth. It fades when the curse intensifies, a sign that it is _alive_ , and will fight to float to the surface.

It was in times like these that the old prophecy haunts her so, both in the waking world and in the world of dreams and nightmares. 

Prophecies uttered by senile old women, a foretelling that, to Gothi, fit Hiccup like a sleeve. He deserved more than this wretched life. If only that wretched woman hadn't bartered with the ancient _Vhallas_ of the old faith. Their magic sought only to destroy that which in turn destroyed them. What right had she, to steal the life of an unborn child before it had even begun?

Even now, struggling as they were to stop it, Gothi feared that they had only served to aid in the blasted prophecy's fulfillment. She stroked his cheek. He seemed so at peace with the world. _He's but a boy. Gods, protect him; Stoic, watch over him at the table of kings from where you sit. Odin guide him to the sanctuary that he will seek._

That such a prophecy existed, was only known to her and one other. She recounted the prophecy in her mind.

_Riat hrsa is sacred vow that you and your kind have no right to wear. Beware, the barbaric nations for the sins of your ancestors do not wash away, and the blood of our kin stain the very essence of your souls. Such was the vow they had made by stealing our sacred ink and our faith._  
_Remember this:_  
_For the one suspended in life_  
_Will live among blood and decay_  
_Thrown was he by his mother's desire,_  
_And sheltered by his father's ire_  
_The one with no fault shall pay the price_  
_As the ink fades, his end is nigh,_  
_Unless he learns to listen and listen well_  
_See the unseen and unveil the darkness_  
_By which had been shadowing his fortress_  
_For at the eve of his birth, the ink all but gone_  
_He will meet his end when the old woman's marks become undone_  
_Remember this, those who blasphemed against the old faith, for the ink never lies._

And then, there was the last known _Vhalla_ , who had been burned along withe funeral pyres of the fallen warriors of the Great Massacre who cursed at them, howled her last words:  
_Your dead men will come back to haunt you_  
_As their eyes have been opened and their blood used as payment for the extension of but one life._  
_Soon you, too, will turn to the old faith, and pray to your gods then, that the old faith you so despise and burn, will be willing to aid you!_

Gothi can still vividly recall her cackling just as the fire finally devoured her until nothing but ashes remained.

* * *

Hiccup awoke from Gothi's bashing. She whacked him on the head when he opened his eyes, as if for good measure. 

The painful burning sensation on his back had lessened to a dull discomfort he can actually manage.  
"It feels a lot better, Gothi," he rolled his shoulders. "Thank you. "  
Gothi made to whack him again, as if to say _"Now go! I have patients to tend to, prescriptions to make and cures to administer."_ But Hiccup knew to dodge this time. He ducked out of there before it landed on him.


	11. Hiccup

Following his trip to the clinic, which took most of his morning, he went straight to training after swiping an apple from the kitchens, to Fishlegs' amusement.  
"This is becoming a habit, Hiccup!" Fishlegs called out to him. "You should go to the great hall to dine on time if you wanted to eat, you know!"  
Hiccup chuckled.  
Training was... uneventful, he should say. She was there, for the second time now. Astrid just stood there, watching him, rapt in attention, as if studying and memorizing his every move. As he fought and practiced, he thought of how he would deal with her. She has definitely caught Spitelout's attention, and if Hiccup did not make his move soon, both she and him would be toast. He prayed to all the Gods that be, that she was smart enough to have thought of a way out before his hand was forced.  
He ducked to the left, feinted right, and shoved his sword to his opponent's throat, or at least, where it should have been. To his surprise, Eret had twisted around to Hiccup's very open back, and was now wrapping a massive arm around Hiccup's throat. Hiccup winced.  
" _You,_ are distracted." Eret whispered to his ear, "Care to share what it is that occupies your mind, _little chief,_ when you could have _easily_ been killed just now?"  
"Don't let my Uncle catch you calling me chief," he managed to choke out, "and what's with the emphasis on _easily_? I am _not that_ easy to beat, and you _know_ it."  
Hiccup tapped Eret's arm to yield, and Eret released him. "Wow, I didn't know you wanted to hug me that much, Eret" he said aloud, and Hiccup wiggled his brows at Eret, to Eret's disgust.  
"Excuse me, m'lord, but _you_ are not my type."  
"And who is, Eret? A certain _forge master_ coming into mind?" Hiccup whispered low as he rolled his shoulder, so only Eret will be able to hear.  
A blush crept into Eret's cheeks, and he sputtered, "You-- how did y- _oh, nevermind._ "  
Hiccup chuckled and fondly slapped Eret in the shoulder. Eret was Hiccup's superior in espionage, having been working for Stoick since childhood, spying for Berk within the other, more remote villages and Islands in the Archipelago. But outside, Hiccup was prince, and Eret was one of Hiccup's most trusted member of his royal guards. Eret had also trained Hiccup since childhood, and so the two had a bond. He _would_ know of Eret's dalliances. He taught Hiccup well, afterall.

* * *

Later that day, Hiccup can be found sitting in one of the benches in the courtyard, deep in thought.  
He was day dreaming.  
_Astrid is.. She's really beautiful._ He thought, a vision of her eyes invading his mind.  
If they had been regular people, she would have never looked twice in his direction. _Gods, what a disappointment I must have been to her!_  
He put his face in his hands in embarrassment. How could he face her when she finally announces herself as... _herself_?  
He rubbed a spot on his shoulder and heaved a heavy sigh.  
"Penny for your thoughts?"  
Hiccup jumped from his seat, only to see... Cami. For a moment there, he thought it had been Astrid.  
"Cami!" he tittered. "Wha- ah - how've you been? Good, yeah? That is- that's great!" he finished with an awkward smile, hands on the back of his hips.  
Cami, feeling a little playful, said, "What's _up_ , Hiccup?" looking pointedly at his trousers.  
Hiccup, beet red, checked his trousers in a panic. "What do yo-wahh-ha-ha- _haa_!" he laughed nervously at Cami, when he discovered nothing was _up_ , up.  
"So, care to explain why you actually fell for _that_?" Cami stepped towards Hiccup, until he was well and truly trapped between the wall and Cami herself.  
"I gotta say, I've done this to girls a lot of times and I didn't know it wasn't _that_ pleasant the other way around." Cami raised a brow. She deliberately placed a knee between Hiccup's legs.  
"Cami! Oh _gods_ ," She had been wrong in thinking he couldn't get any redder.  
She snickered in amusement. She gave him a dangerous look and began inching her knee upward.  
" _Stopstopstop!_ I'll tell you! I'll tell you, just, let's sit like civilized people. _Gods_." she pushed herself off the wall and sat down, tapping the space beside her excitedly. Hiccup exhaled, relieved. For a small woman, she can be quite domineering.  
Hiccup sat hesitantly beside Cami, leaving ample space between them.  
"So, tell me why you're day dreaming about my baby sister?"  
His eyes widened. "I wasn'- I was just- "  
"You don't seem capable of forming coherent sentences today," Cami teased.  
Hiccup gave her an exasperated look. "I was just thinking that Astrid has to get out and soon."  
Cami sobered. "Yeah. What do you suppose we can do to get her to quit?"  
"She has to have a plan to get herself out quietly, somehow. She won't risk coming here if there was no way out. Especially if she was expected to arrive sooner rather than later."Hiccup said, and then added, "Also, you will soon have to go. Bog has no ruler at the moment. All of you are here. Bog is weak and ready for the taking."  
Yes. Cami was also worried about that. She had been in denial, since it would mean that she has to be away from her family. _Again_. _Why does it feel like we're always being pulled apart?_ Was Cami always destined to be alone? She looked at Hiccup. She knew he was right. She has to do everything to protect Bog and its people. It was her duty.  
She remembered something. "But, don't I have to wait until you're married before going back to Bog? That was the contract, right? I'm still Chief's Ward until your marriage?" she hoped. At max, this will give her a month, maybe two. She can still see Bertha.  
"Oh. Yes. That's right. Marriage." Hiccup sat forward, elbows touching his knees. He looked... unsure.  
"Why? Cold feet?" Cami baited. "What is it?"  
"I.. I love you as a sister Cami, you know that. We grew up together, I know most of your quirks, habits, your likes, dislikes. And you know me. My secrets, my shame, almost.. everything. But.. Astrid is a whole different matter altogether. She seems great- she's beautiful, assertive, and.. sneaky. Heck, she infiltrated the Fortress for the fun of it. But I don't know her at all. I don't know how accepting she'll be of a mercenary prince like me. I mean she won't know, but.." He leaned back. "I guess.. I'm just scared she'll get to know me and.. she won't see anything worth her while. Besides, she must have had some suspicion about Bertha's death. I mean we covered up pretty much everything, faked her death and funeral and all that, but.. she knew your mother well. She would have had seen something that raised her suspicion and decided to investigate." _which led her to think she would find answers here._  
"Did you want to marry for love, Hic?" Cami wondered. "As heirs, we have duties that keep us from following our hearts. Duties that might be good for the people, but not necessarily for us. Our whole lives are a testament to that. I know you already know this but.. just a reminder, that you're not alone in this dilemma of yours. She could have simply posed as a maid to check you out. I mean, I would do that, if only to get a headstart on knowing my husband without the pressure of my title on my back and to actually see him acting normally, without him putting his best foot forward to constantly try to impress me. To get to know him as.. simply _him_."  
"Thanks, Cami, it really means a lot that you're here." he smiled tentatively.  
"Yes, how lucky you are to be graced with the presence of _Ze Great Camicazi_ everyday." she chuckled. "You know, for the record, you're not so bad, Hic. You have a charming personality, you're kind, and, I'll stop before your head gets any bigger-" Cami mocked.  
"Oh, _you little,_ "  
"But truly, Astrid wouldn't have stuck around long if you hadn't been the least bit interesting to her. My sister is also quite the woman, I'll have you know. She might be a little annoying now, with her taller, more slender figure, and her long braid like freaking sunflowers cascading her back-"  
"She has long hair?"  
" _Ugh,_ everything I just said and you're hung up on _that?_ What about the fact that I said you _might_ be interesting to her, eh?" Cami rolled her eyes. "Yes, she has long hair, so what?" and then wiggled her brows at Hiccup. "Why, you have some kind of fetish for long haired girls, ei, ei?" Cami said, elbowing him.  
Hiccup didn't even want to dignify that with an answer.  
They sat there in contemplative silence, grateful for each other's company.


	12. Astrid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update!   
> I got really, really sick, and I wasn't allowed to use my phone for a while. But during those sick days, I was trying to come up with a better storyline, and I really hope I can pull it off.   
> Anyway, thank you for getting this far in to the story! I love you for reading my work, truly. :---D  
> Now let's see what our dear Astrid has been up to. ;---)

"Y'know, that Prince always were fond of that cat." said Melba, a stout servant who was sometimes in charge of clearing the chamberpots.  
"Oh! That he is! He always steals mackerels from the kitchens, either he thinks we don't notice or he just don't care. I got in trouble for them mackerels once or twice already." Grata, a kitchen maid, pouted.  
"Eh. I don't think so, he does care, just that he's a bit careless about it. But I wonder why he would go to such lengths for that cat. Sooner or later that Savage would know where to find it and, well.. That'll be the end of it." Melba wondered aloud. "But, in all honesty, _it is_ kind of endearing. Don't you think so too, Brenna?" _Brenna? Who's Brenna?_ She thought. And then remembered, _Half troll! That's me!_   
"What? Oh. Yes. I suppose." Astrid hadn't been paying much attention. Melba turned back to Grata and continued their senseless talk about the Prince and his precious cat. She assumed that they were talking about the black cat she had seen with him in his second chamber two nights ago. Apparently, Spitelout had been quite adamant at not letting any animal other than their horses to be permitted inside the Fortress. The older maids, when asked about this simply said, "It's old superstion, girl." she raised a brow, unbelieving that such a tedious and utilitarian man would decree such a nonsensical law.  
Also, it seems that the Prince had broken this rule once already. The maids had not shared anything about his punishment, to Astrid's disappointment. Just that it had been too much for a four year old kid who had just lost his father.  
Astrid noticed that no one talked about Camicazi. When she asked about her, they would just pointedly ignore her. She must have seemed persistent in her questions about Camicazi, since a maid warned her cautiously not to get too involved with Camicazi. _She was not someone anyone in the Fortress would want to cross,_ she had said. _Just ask Old Hilda. She was Camicazi's nanny from childhood._ The maid pointed to a woman who looked like she had perpetual rashes on half of her body, and hobbled like a donkey pulling on a boulder. She had looked like even walking was such a chore, that Astrid opted not to bother the old woman.  
She was starting to go crazy after two days of nonstop chatter. Of servants. About absolutely _everything._   
One would think that servants have too much chore to have time for so much gossip. Astrid suspected talking to happen, in fact, she had counted on it. But she did not anticipate _this much_ talking.   
She was looking forward to tonight. She was going back to the inn. And contemplating not coming back. At least, not as a maid, but as herself. After all, she can't seem to get proper information, except for what she herself saw, some interesting snippets from the servants and that knight who conversed with her.   
Besides, she can't pose as a maid for long. It would complicate matters. Maids would familiarize too much with her, and she risks exposure every minute more that she stays there. She had taken care to build a low profile, always kept her head down, her questions kept to a minimum, and she even had freckles temporarily inked on her face. Her long hair was also inside her headdress at all times. She also walked funny sometimes, just for effect.   
Well, except for that time when her eyes and the prince's had met for a moment too long, and he embarrassed himself by walking straight to a stone wall, with a matching _oompf!_ to his utter mortification. She tried to suppress her laughter, but didn't quite succeed.   
She suspects the prince might be starting to recognize her, since to him, she might appear to have a strong resemblance to Camicazi, especially with her hair always tied back in a braid and hidden. She had to get out, and soon.  
She was falling a pace behind the two maids when a hand darted out from a room and pulled her in.  
She gasped in surprise, and fought to free herself. She tried to bite the hand of his attacker, but his grip on her face was too tight, and she couldn't open her jaw enough. She scratched his arms with her nails, and she had started to draw blood. It was too dark in the room to see anything, when a wall sconce was lit with fire, the others quick to follow. She was thrown to the ground, her breath knocked out of her lungs in the force that she collided with the hard ground.  
Trying hard not to wheeze, she looked slightly up to see boots with what looked like a black fur cape that almost touched the ground. Eyes travelling upwards, she saw who it was. _Spitelout_. Looking around, they were alone with the knight who had struck a conversation with Astrid. _So that's why he talked with me. He knew me from the beginning, I suspect._ She had come to understand that he was called Eret son of Eret. _Stupid name_. She wondered who had lit the fire sconces on the wall, all _eight_ of them, and still remain unseen? She frowned. Does she continue with her charade? Or does she invoke her name? Well. It seems the choice had been made for her.   
She sat up and stood with as much grace as she can muster.  
"So, Princess." he grinned, which looked more like a grimace than a smile. "Did you think, that you can wriggle in the cracks on my walls and hope that I wouldn't know?"  
"Your _impregnable_ fortress isn't so impregnable, is it then, if even I can wriggle in so easily?" she said defiantly.  
His hand grabbed her face so fast, that she couldn't react on time. His face, close enough for Astrid to smell, stank of mead. She crinkled her nose in disgust.  
" _You_ only got in, because _I_ let you in. Don't get fresh with me, little bitch! There is _nothing_ that happens in this fortress that I don't _know_ about." he said, spit flying to Astrid's face. "How _is_ Bog? Did Bertha burn properly, I wonder? I heard she was found in pieces." he said, his eyes glistening with something like hatred and elation. She was not surprised, since Bog and Berk had its long History of War, and most of them were raised to hate each other.  
He laughed condescendingly. "How was seeing yer sister fer the first time in, what, thirteen years? Has there been a touching reunion or.. _oh_. Of course not. You _would_ feel that way about her, wouldn't you? Feel unsure of where her loyalties lie?"  
"You son of a—!"   
" _Tut, tut, tut._ Dear princess, you wouldn't want to add _treason_ to your sentence, would you? I mean, Bog just lost a monarch, what would happen if they lost another?"  
"Kill me, then." she challenged.  
"Oh, I never said _you_ , dearie." her eyes widened a fraction when she understood his implication. "Yer lucky ye have a part to .... in my plan ........ letting ye breathe ...... day." he muttered low enough for Astrid just to make out some words. Her brows furrowed in confusion.  
"Eret. I believe her accommodations have been prepared?"  
"Yes, chief." _What a dog._  
Spitelout let her go and pushed her into eret, and said, "Escort her there, will ye?" he sneered at her. "We don't want her gettin' lost, do we?"  
Eret snatched her arm and helped her stand up.   
Spitelout said, "I think a night or _three_ in the dungeon will teach her enough. Let's _sit down and talk_ after ye come to terms with _who_ the authority is in this fortress."

* * *

"So, Eret, Son of Eret. You knew who I was from the beginning?"  
"Only a fool would not look at you and Cami and not get to the same conclusion."  
"Still a bit of a chatterbox, I see."  
"Listen here, Princess. Spitelout isn't someone you want to cross right now. So if I were you, I would shut my thor-damned mouth. You're lucky he just wants you rotting here for days. He can do worse."  
"Ooh, how _scary._ He can do worse, can he? Master threatened not to feed you if you disobey?"  
" _No._ He had my best friend killed. As you might have overlooked, he doesn't punish _you_ for _your_ crimes. So _yes._ " his grip tightened on her arm. "He can do _much, much_ worse. And if you don't get that through your thick skull, then those you hold dear are doomed."  
She was stunned into silence. What kind of monarch does that to his subjects? Most of all, his knight? One who was tasked to protect you? One whose literal job description is to die fighting for you?  
 _'He had'. He said,_ 'He had _my best friend killed.' Berk has assassins. Or, at least, Spitelout have them._ Bog has its own share of mercenaries, but following Spitelout's proclamation that he knows _everything_ that happens inside the Fortress, it wasn't a stretch to think that most of the servants, knights, and people in the Fortress in general, were   
, at best, at his beck and call. And report anything new to their Master. At worst..  
She had a long night ahead of her to wrap her head around what had just happened, and what had been unwittingly revealed to her.


	13. Eret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update was really late- again, I know. But please please please don't give up on me, I will finish this story, just give me time. :))
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was fun to write, a little insight on Eret's mind and his backstory, how he came to be in his position, and his relationship with Hiccup and how he feels about Astrid's imprisonment. 
> 
> Also, Thuggory and his father, Mogadon the meathead is mentioned in this chapter! :D
> 
> Feel free to leave your comments below! What do you think of Eret? Is he one of the more suspicious characters or just a bystander caught up in a whirlwind of death and politics?

He probably should have kept his mouth shut.  
Giving her sound advice was one thing, but basically telling her his life's story was another matter altogether.  
But he didn't know what else to tell her, to make her realize the weight of her decisions, her actions. Somehow, he found that he did not want the same future for that girl. He knew she had just lost a parent. It wasn't exactly pity that he felt. And surely not attraction. That would be beyond laughable. But it was the same feeling he got when it came to the little chief— Ren.

* * *

_7 years ago_  
He was the best informant that Berk had. He was skilled, they said. He was quite young then. Just a little over sixteen. Impressed with him, his betters recommended him for a higher position inside the Fortress.  
He started calling Hiccup 'little chief' when he had just started working as the Prince's Aide. Eret wasn't at all into Hiccup's name. Seriously, who names their son, heir to the Berkian throne, _Hiccup?_ And he's not even the first, there were two before him. So Eret called him other names instead. 'Little chief' was the least of them. But after a while it just became sort of his pet name for the lad. He also sometimes called him Ren. A shorter version of the prince's second name.  
To be honest, he hated the job at first. He felt like he was some sort of replacement for a nursemaid. It felt demeaning. And irritating. The boy was a sarcastic little shit and a pain in the ass. He slips Eret's attention, gets into troubles all by himself, and doesn't have one ounce of respect for Eret. And Eret didn't have a care for the lad. That boy can come home bloodied and bruised for all Eret cared. The boy's uncle cared even less, so Eret had no qualms with neglecting his charge.  
But as time went by, Eret realized what Ren was— a little boy who had his mother and father torn away from him when he was very young. A boy who had larger burdens to bear. His sarcasm was his defense. His walls. Like Eret, he didn't have place to call home. He didn't have a family he could count on. After looking that truth in the eye, Eret started to be curious, at first, with the lad.  
He observed where the boy went when he slips away from Eret. He goes out to the forest. There was a grave marker there. He cleans it— washes it with care. Reads to it. Talks with it.  
Eret asked around why there was a grave marker in the older part of the forest. They said it was for the late chieftess. Which was odd. Chiefs and chieftesses got sent off in burning ships, or burned in funeral pyres. Not buried below dirt and dust, rotting away with time. Even the kings and queens of old had been buried in the crypts above ground, with sealed boxes containing their preserved bodies.  
But this Chieftess— Ren's mother— was buried a long ways from the Fortress. _Did she commit a crime?_ Eret wondered.  
One day Eret had followed the child again to his mother's hidden grave, when a mountain bear as big as the Fortress' gates attacked the lad near the grave marker.  
He didn't know what pushed him to do it, but Eret had stepped in almost immediately, taking the bear by surprise and gutting it, but not before it clawed Eret on his chest. Or it would have, if the young Prince had not pulled him away and got clipped by the claw in Eret's stead. The cut was bad, to say the least. The bear's claw had cut Ren to his bone, his forearm was torn and the blood was flowing freely from the wound. But the boy's face was near expressionless.  
Ren asked, "Why did you kill the bear?"  
"I—it's my job to protect you, little chief." for a moment there, the boy looked unnaturally still and void of emotion. He didn't seem to mind the amount of blood flowing from his wound, seemingly used to gore.  
"Why do you keep calling me that?— little chief."  
"Because isn't that what you are? You'll be the next chief of Berk. More importantly, we have to get that wound seen to." Eret said, stating the obvious. He reached out but Ren took a step back, out of his reach.  
"What makes you believe I even _want_ to be chief?"  
"I.. I'm not sure. Why? Do you wish to be something else?" Eret was dumbfounded. Ren spoke much better than boys his age.  
"I wish I was dead." Ren blurted.  
That caught him off guard. It was not the answer he was expecting from a child. "What?"  
"I said, I wish I was dead! I wish you hadn't killed that bear! I wish it hadn't just injured my arm, _I wish it had gutted me, as you had gutted it!_ " the expresionless mask had begun to slip away, revealing the vulnerable child that he was.  
"Why would you say that?"  
"Because I'm sick of it! I'm sick of errands! I'm sick of my uncle who makes me do things I wish I'd never done!"  
And Eret Understood then.  
Ren was just a boy. The Prince obeyed every order given to him, because he was afraid to be punished himself. He was just that. _A boy. Powerless._  
And like Eret, Ren did what he had to protect those he loved.  
Ren might have done horrible things, but children, or good men, in general, in the command of vile people, do vile things. One might argue that there is _always a choice_. But what if the choice you had to make was between bad and worse? What if the choice you had to make was killing someone you don't know, or being the cause for your loved one's death?  
They really were the same in many ways. The irony was not lost on Eret. He had wanted the prince dead since his friend's murder. He had plotted to poison him, to smother him. But he had just protected the child that caused him suffering, the child who killed—

* * *

_Present_  
He rubbed his face with his hand and sighed. He felt gutted—recalling his friend's murder from 7 years ago.  
His story wasn't any more tragic nor special than the others.  
Him and his friend—Vidar his name was—were from northwest, from a little town with no name.  
Eret had never felt affection for his siblings nor his family. He never had a place in his house. So when they could, they ran away. Vidar was nineteen and Eret just thirteen.  
But Vidar was the brother that Eret chose for himself. Vidar was a good man. And better with his wits.  
Eret was skilled with the sword and Vidar clever with his mind. So Eret when he had been old enough, he took on a job in the guard, and his friend in the archives. Vidar built quite a name for himself— the youngest scholar of the Archives. Eret had always teased Vidar that he was the youngest because all the other scholars were old as dirt. They had a whole three good years. They met up once in while. And Eret would humor him and listen to Vidar's stories of epics and ballads of old, of histories and old religions. _"It's fascinating,"_ Vidar would always say. Eret was happy for his friend. Back home, he would never have been allowed to read books, let alone own one. Vidar was lowborn. Eret had forged some papers with the help of some stolen gold from his father and a skilled mimic—those who create fake documents by their hand, saying otherwise. No one would have known.  
But his friend started asking questions. Questions that would get him killed. And it did, eventually. He was so crazed with his work that even the scholars were scared to interfere, so they let him be and called Eret to intervene.  
He was raging on about some old myth about dragons and priestesses of old, of acolytes and the old faith. He sounded near madness when Eret last saw him. _"Eret, you have to listen to me, you have to kill him,"_ he said to him, shaking him as if trying to will him to understand. Vidar clutched a little book in his hands, cradling it as if it were an ailing child.  
_"Who?" Eret had asked, humoring him for old time's sake._  
"The boy, that boy you serve. He'll be the end of all that is! Please, listen to me! You have to underta—!"  
Quickly, Eret covered Vidar's mouth with his hand. "By the gods, Vidar, that's treason you're speaking of! And he's just a child, man— what's gotten into you? This is not the Vidar I grew up with!"  
Eret let go, and Vidar collapsed to the ground like melted copper. "Eret, I know I sound crazed, but please, you have to believe me, he's a danger to us all, even now, he's out there with his hands getting more bloodied by the day."  
Eret could not believe it, his friend who would never even hurt a rat, was begging him to end the life of a ten year old boy. "Let no one hear you speak of such things. It will get you killed. I can't help you then. Be gone from here by tomorrow. Ride north or south, east or west— I don't care. But I'm not watching my friend lose his mind and beheaded for treason."  
Thinking he had just lost a friend, he walked away.  
"Eret, please!"  
That was the last he had heard from Vidar. He still regretted walking away from him that day. He knew he was killed. Spitelout even told Eret himself.  
_"I heard about the youngest scholar in the Berk Archives. Pity he lost his mind. The mind can do terrible, terrible things to a man, don't ye agree?"_  
_Not knowing how to respond, he just nodded his assent._  
_"I heard his throat had been slit."_  
_"Yes chief. It was."_  
_"I told him to. He really was blabbing away too much."_  
_"Chief?" Eret asked, uncertain if he had heard right._  
_"Oh, yes. He wasn't a tough man to kill, he told me. The scoundrel ran. Not very fast, I imagine." Spitelout took a swig of his wine as if they were men telling war stories by the fire._  
_"Ye must be wondering why I called you here. A little nobody from the Prince's guard. Ye see, I heard a funny story. That the scholar's papers said ye and him were brothers. Last I heard, Mogadon only had two sons and a daughter. A lad named Thuggory, and the other a boy named Eret. A Vidar was never mentioned."_  
_Eret's eyes widened and he began, "My Lord, I—"_  
_"Yes, yes. I know ye forged his papers. I'm not stupid. Ye do know that is punishable by death, don't ye? Of course ye do. I thought ye were a fine lad, handy with the weapon. I could use ye. That's why he's dead, and ye're not."_  
_Outrageous. After all that he just said, Spitelout expected Eret to still follow him? "What?! Did you expect me to cower before you, after what you just confessed? Beg for my life?"_  
_"Careful, boy, ye're still talking to yer Chief! And ye will cower when I tell ye to, beg when I tell ye to, and piss when I damn tell ye to!"_  
_"You're only a chief in name, a chief is bound by honor and love for his people! You are no chief!"_  
_Before Eret can draw his sword, he found his arms pinned to the nearest wall and disarmed in under a minute by two of Spitelout's men. No doubt paid mercenaries._  
_Amused, Spitelout looked on. "Would ye like to take a gander on who I sent to kill your... supposed brother?"_  
_Eret refused to play the Chief's stupid game and spit on Spitelout's feet._  
_It only seemed to fuel his amusement. "Let me give ye a hint. Ye're in charge of him. Ye protect him— on a daily basis, in fact."_  
_"What?"_  
_"Oh, surely ye know who I'm talking about."_  
_Eret shook his head in disbelief. "I—but he's just a boy!"_  
_"Aye. And ye saw what that mere child can do, didn't ye?"_  
_"No, it can't be!"_  
_"Some lads are just born with the talent fer violence. _Ye've seen him with weapons. But ye. Yer good with information. Ye might have the brawn, and ye might not be the sharpest tool in shed, but yer memory. They say ye remember everything ye see or hear. I heard how dear Vidar lamented over it so much— how it was wasted on ye. Ye served the guard as an informant before ye were appointed as the Prince's aide. Ye were closest to his age and also skilled with weapons so it made sense."__  
_Eret's mind was still reeling. That little chief, Ren— Hiccup the runt, killed Vidar. Does that even make any sense?_  
_"What makes you think I'll still serve you like a dog after this? Let alone protect the damn runt you call your nephew?"_  
_"Ye will if ye don't want his wife and daughter hurt. Or worse—dead."_  
_"Wife and.. daughter?" he never heard a thing from Vidar about this._  
_"Oh, you didn't know? He impregnated a bitch in the citadel. Quite the beauty, too."_  
_"That can't be true. He would have told me!"_  
_"Yes, he would have, I believe. If he had lived another day. The bitch only just gave birth last night. They were going to elope, judging by the bags they've packed."_  
He had wanted to end his suffering himself then. He wanted to kill the mother and child, to get away, free himself from that burden, and ride south, as far as south went. But he couldn't bring himself to. They were the only remnants Vidar had left. His chambers had been engulfed by a fire. No doubt Spitelout's doing.  
That twisted man had charged Eret of protecting the child who unknowingly killed Vidar. The irony wasn't lost on Eret. But he did not blame the child. At least, not for the last five years.  
And Eret couldn't leave the Prince. Call it sentimentality, but he couldn't leave him alone. So at eighteen, two years after Vidar's murder, Eret accepted Spitelout's offer to work again as his informant and the Prince's _'Ringmaster'_. He monitored the Prince's assignments and 'errands' as he calls it, for Spitelout's convenience.  
Him and the Prince didn't always see eye to eye, but they understood why they do what they do.


	14. Astrid

He knew.  
He knew how Bertha had been found. He had taunted her, _"I heard she was found in pieces."_  
No one but she and a few attendants knew. Those who had to replace the body, and those who had fixed the mangled corpse. Or tried to.  
They had known it was the work of sick bastard, an assassin, no doubt. There were no traces of the killer found on the scene. No one was seen coming in and out of her room, her windows sealed shut and showed no signs of tampering, even the secret tunnels leading inside her chamber was almost too spick and span. The time of murder was also suspicious. Since Bertha had been seen some two hours before midnight, and was found near four in the morning, meaning the murder had taken place in the six hours in between. It would have been nearly too quick for a flaying. Flaying was for someone who liked to take their time with the kill, and to have done the act and not alert anyone, Bertha must have been asleep or already dead before being flayed. A small relief.  
The scene had been gruesome, even for Astrid, who has already seen her fair share of violence. It was almost taunting, the way that the body had been laid out.  
She sighed for what might be the hundredth time that night. Astrid rubbed the image of her dead mother from her eyes with the heels of her palm.  
The only thing recognizable about the body had been Bertha's sigil ring. It had a beaked dragon engraved on it, one with spikes coming out the back of its head. It had been called a Deadly Nadder, once, Bertha had said.  
Astrid looked at it now.  
Grime had covered it, and some blood still clung to it. Tears kept falling from Astrid's eyes as she stared at the cursed thing. She supposed it was normal. This was the first time since Bertha's death that she had been alone. She tried to stop it the first few times, but the tears had kept on falling, and falling, until she was too tired to wipe them away. No one would see them, anyway. Spitelout had not even posted guards to make sure she stayed there. He didn't need to. The bars were thick enough and the mechanisms too complicated, there wasn't even a lock to pick, for her to plan an escape.  
She looked to the small barred window. It was about dawn now.  
She had sailed to Berk at first light after her Mother's funeral, and her attendants must be somewhere in the citadel by now, three days after she had set foot on Berk. She had told them that she would go on ahead, to bring the news to Berk, and to push the Marriage contracts sooner, so that Cami, Bertha's rightful heir, can be sent on her merry way to Bog.  
She gingerly laid her head between the bars. It was getting warmer, at least, with the rising of the sun.  
Back to her original thoughts, however. What was it that caught her attention earlier? _Ah, yes. That he had known._ Which wasn't entirely impossible, really, if she thought about it. It had been nearly five days, since Bertha's death and funeral, and it was possible that he also had people watching Bog.. How else could he have known? It was the only logical explan— but, it _wasn't,_ was it? _Spitelout.. has assassins._ Could he have? But why? Bog had been Berk's puppet kingdom for thirteen years! She was even set to marry the damn prince, for Thor's sake! What would have Bertha's death achieved?  
Who could he have sent? Astrid's mind whirred with the events of the last few days. Could she have missed something?  
Suddenly, Astrid's chest seemed to constrict at her sudden realization.  
Errands. _Fucking errands._  
_Out on the Chief's errands,_ they said. Errands that no one knows the details. Errands that takes him days to return. Errands that need a _Prince_ to be complete.  
How many days had it taken Astrid to get to Berk? About two days and a half. And how many days had the maids told Astrid that their _Prince_ been gone—about six days. And he returned on his seventh day, in the dead of night. Plenty of time to go to Bog, take care of something for, say, six hours, finish it, and be back here at Berk by your seventh night. It was a stretch, Astrid knew, but the circumstances were just.. too fitting.  
Besides, Hiccup seemed to know a lot about stealth. He barely makes a sound when he walked. Those squealing maids had mentioned that they had been surprised by his presence once or twice since they worked there. He was slim and fit, and handy with any weapon, as far as Astrid was aware of. He was nimble on his feet, quick to react and precise in his attacks. No one seemed to know much about the lad, except for the old maids, who didn't talk much except to point you to your next chore.  
In the odd chance Astrid was wrong in her suspicions, those errands still _were_ quite questionable. She would look into that later.  
She fluffed her bundle of hay, and wrapped herself tighter in her makeshift blanket from her maid's apron. Her second day in the dungeons had just begun, but she had no energy left in her to both think and stay awake longer. So she closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness.

* * *

_She dreamed of a girl with long ebony locks and eyes like melted snow. She was wearing a white fur cloak. The girl was pinning something beneath her, an animal, maybe. Astrid turned her head and it seemed that she was perched on a branch no larger than her arm. She couldn't quite see, because of the snow below, but she can hear them. It was like the sound was amplified ten times than normal. She could hear almost every movement below and above her. After a few tries, she managed to concentrate her hearing on what was happening below._  
"Hello, lad. I see you grew up quite well." there was nostalgia in her sharp, feminine voice. "I had hoped it would be you. The other boy was just... let's just say.. not up to my standards." she said in a singsong voice. "But I did not expect you to have such low regard for your own life." she spat disgustedly, and continued, "You've forgotten _all_ about me, haven't you? I taught you everything I know, and yet, you lock them all away." she tutted. The animal, or, the man, if she were to guess, struggled to move his limbs underneath her, and was trying to speak with no success. Nonplussed, she appeared to lean down, and she whispered in a low voice, " _dormio, nam nunc_ " And with a snap of a finger, he stopped in his struggle and slowly calmed down. "Since you're so keen on forgetting." she turned his head that side to side, as if inspecting his face.  
She leisurely stood herself up and looked silently at the man. His eyes appeared shut and his hair dishevelled. He smelled like stale mead and musk. He looked familiar. She wanted a closer look at the man but before she could attempt to fly down, when the ebony haired lady sharply turned her head to where Astrid was. Astrid locked eyes with the woman. The action was so startling that Astrid almost lost her balance but luckily managed to catch herself just in time. The woman was all sharp angles, she had a chiseled jawline and cheekbones that stuck out of her face. Her dark plum lips and and rouged cheeks were striking, paired with her pale complexion. Everything about her seemed to contrast each other.  
But she was undeniably beautiful. Her sharp angles were contrasted with her subtle curves and the grace that she moved— her eyes the clearest of blue, she seemed like a goddess come alive from one of her nan's stories. Her face contorted into anger and amusement, there and gone before Astrid can register them properly. The woman's eyes narrowed into thin slits of ice.  
"I see he's collected quite talented critters. But what use is talent _when they're not even aw—" her voice faded into the background as Astrid's mind flew to other things like prey and mice tunneling underneath the snow, and the strong hunger urging her to hunt, kill, and eat. But she was curious, about the ebony haired lady, the man laying on the snow, and how she was... so hungry, hungry, hungry,_ hungry _.... She flew silently over the woods, the woman and man forgotten, and listened intently for prey._  
Over the horizon, she saw a familiar stone castle and a city that weaved like a wreathe around it. It was a beautiful city on a hill. She flew a little lower to the ground. Prey. That's what she wanted, she remembered.  
Sounds were coming in fast, but she knew what sound she was looking out for, what her food looked like. Scratching of wood. A twig, breaking. A soft squeak. Snow softly crunching. Another squeak. She glided down and— there! _she thrust her claws into the snow and caught a small grey mouse between her beak. She alighted on a branch, and without another beat, tossed the vermin slightly in the air and swallowed it whole. This vermin seemed to fight its way down Astrid's throat and she was starting to feel it's languid clawing when she started to choke. She heard a woman cackling. Air._ Air. _She needed_ air.  
She sat up coughing violently and gulping frigid air, trying to get more into her lungs. She was trembling and sweating profusely. Her fringe had stuck to her forehead and her hands were clammy and cold. She looked at the shadows dancing around her cell. Someone had come and lit up the sconces.  
She couldn't get the images of her dream from her mind.  
_What_ was _that_?


	15. Hiccup

He definitely shouldn't be climbing walls and traipsing along the Fortress roof drunk. But the moon was bright tonight, and the wind was cold on his face. It calmed him down. Being high on the roof was the closest he can get to feeling freedom.  
He was trying to be quiet, but he couldn't help but giggle. At the absurdity of his life. At his lack of power to change it. He felt trapped.  
He perched on the apex of the roof, and leaned back until his back was balancing on the roof material.  
A black shadow passed quickly before him and he didn't have time to react when he felt the impact on his stomach. A resounding _oompf!_ followed. Black fur and green eyes stared back at him condescendingly.  
"Hey bud," Hiccup said shakily, quickly sobering up. "way to make an entrance."  
Toothless hissed at him. "Yeah, I know, I'm not supposed to be here." Hiccup giggled again. "But, just feel the wind, the cold, doesn't it taste like freedom?"  
Toothless huffed and closed his eyes, strangely, as if feeling the wind, as Hiccup suggested. Toothless then slowly fixed himself in a sphinx position on Hiccup's chest, resting his head on his front legs. Hiccup also relaxed and closed his eyes, imagining he was somewhere else, somewhere far.  
They stayed like that for quite a while.

* * *

He woke up in his room with a piercing headache, hours later, or what he assumed were hours. He didn't remember getting back to his room. Gathering his wits about him, he tossed the covers off of him and stood. He swayed on his feet but managed to stablize himself enough to walk and groom himself.  
His tunic was wet, and so were his trousers. As if he had laid in the snow. Maybe he had. His back felt sore.  
He silently wondered what happened to Toothless last night, but he reminded himself that Toothless knew how to take care of himself and would be fine. _He wasn't a sick helpless kitten anymore._ Sometimes it saddened Hiccup, that Toothless seemed almost too independent nowadays. _I guess he doesn't need me as much anymore._ He finished lacing his fresh tunic and trousers and yawned.  
His other leg was halfway through the window when someone knocked at the door.  
"Sire, the chief wishes to see you in your Father's study."  
Hiccup called out, "Alright, tell the ass I'll be there in a minute!" and promptly jumped out of the second floor window. He landed noiselessly on the grass, but he startled some servants working below. "Mornin', folks!" he smiled charmingly. The servants, unperturbed, smiled back. They were used to it by now. He hurried down along the path and weaved through the hallways, to the kitchen. Fishlegs, as diligent as ever, was slicing and dicing some ingredients when Hiccup walked in.  
"Morning, Fish. Um, do you have something for uh, a headache?" Hiccup asked.  
"Ya mean, a hangover? I mean, sure, I can probably make something up." Fishlegs deadpanned.  
"Great! I'll just wait right here." he smiled his charming smile, hoping it would work as well with his best friend.  
"I swear, Hiccup, any more mead on ya and ya'll be a walking fascimile of your uncle. Ya just got back, for Thor's sake."  
"I don't think Thor is directly affected by my drinking habits, but I strongly object on me being a _'walking fascimile'_ of the uncle of the year."  
"Ya know what I mean. Ya know sometimes, I think those errands of yours actually do ya some good, since ya can't drink on the job." Fishlegs said, putting the kettle on.  
"You see, if you knew what those errands were, I don't think you'd say that." He said under his breath.  
"What?" Fishelegs turned around to face Hiccup.  
"Nothing!" he said.  
"It's been acting up again, isn't it?" Fishlegs said, concerned.  
"What? Oh, you mean my back. It's fine, not really hu—ah! ha- _ah!_ " he fell out of his seat and curled up on the ground. Fishlegs, unbelieving at first, stared at Hiccup a moment too long before running to him and trying to get him up, but Hiccup protested in pain, and _laughed._  
Fishlegs, adrenalin still pumping, took a few seconds to process what had just happened. He had just been fooled by Hiccup, _again._  
He threw Hiccup down to the ground in frustration, "I swear to hel, Hiccup, if you keep doing that, I'm going to serve you more of that vegetable that you hate and you can choke on that."  
Hiccup, covered in sweat and still laughing, "Oh, learn how to take a joke, man."  
Fishlegs went over to his pots and checked. "Sometimes I wonder if you're actually a Loki worshipper. Ugh— see what you just did?— Because of your absurd little joke, that hangover soup will taste like charred chicken broth."  
Hiccup finally stopped laughing and sighed. "Forget about it, then." he walked to the wine cabinets despite Fishlegs' objections, and filled up a wineskin to the brim.  
"I'll make another soup, _gods, Hiccup._ Those substances are like poison to your body!"  
_Good thing I'm great with poisons, then._ He thought darkly.  
"Bye Fish," He dismissively said, and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

* * *

He opened the door to his Father's study without knocking. His uncle looked up at him from his chair in disapproval.  
"Surely someone taught ye how te knock?"  
"Hm. Really? Never learned." Hiccup mock-contemplated.  
"Don't get smart with me _boy._ "  
It might have been the alcohol, but he couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "So, what is it that's so important you had to see me?" he sat on his father's old desk, much to Spitelout's annoyance.  
"Ye might want to check on the old dungeons ye used to frequent when ye were still... inexperienced." his eyes glinted in ill-concealed disdain.  
Alcohol rapidly draining from his bloodstream, Hiccup couldn't quite keep the panic off of his face. _Who was it this time?_  
"What did you do now?" he jumped to his feet and was face to face with Spitelout in seconds.  
Spitelout sighed. "Ye really are yer father's son. Always so overacting. Quick to put the blame on others. I told ye to handle things, didn' I? Ye ignored me, so that's what she gets."  
Hiccup felt as if a bucket of ice had just been dunked on his head. _Astrid_.  
_Oh gods, Cami's going to kill me._  
"Don't worry yer pretty little head, now. Do you think me so foolish, nephew, that I will kill her outright? She's being let out as we speak. Although...dead _or_ alive, I'm not sure."  
Hiccup knew that. Spitelout wouldn't kill her. But there are worse things than death.  
"What did you do to her?" he said, trying hard to get his surprise off his face.  
"Nothing much, really. So _melodramatic_ ." Spitelout sighed. "She's actually been there fer days. If yer so concerned, ye should've done something about her already. I can't have her roaming around the Fortress learning all about our defenses, can I?"  
"I was _biding my time._ " Hiccup reasoned. "Where is she?"  
"When ye get yer turn at the wheel, ye'll understand that taking matters into yer own two hands is better than _'biding yer time'_. You'll learn that sometimes doing things ye consider to be vile is the best course of action a ruler can take." Spitelout chastised.  
" _Where is she now?_ "  
"Gothi's."  
Hiccup didn't bother responding to him, let alone staying to listen, so he turned around and headed as fast as he can to Gothi's clinic.  
"Gothi?" he called out, looking around feverishly for a sign of Astrid. A bashing on the head was his only warning of the crone's presence.  
"Gothi, where's Astrid? Is she alright? Does she need anything?"  
Gothi, unabashed, signed to him, _'Been drinking again, boy? The lass is fine. She doesn't need anything from_ you'  
"But—"  
_'Go get her sister. That's who she needs. Run along now.'_  
Hiccup, turned away from the clinic with another whack on his head and went to fetch Cami, to his chagrin.

* * *

Cami didn't need to be told twice, and after several threats on Hiccup's life, she dashed to Gothi's clinic. Hiccup was no cleric, but from what he gathered, Astrid had been starved for days, just as Cami had been when they were younger.  
He prayed to all the gods for her recovery, or he'll soon be facing two Bog matriarchs and paying with his life.  
Hiccup had never understood Spitelout's need to always be in control and his incessant need to punish people below him.  
But it has to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time writing a fanfic so please feel free to comment on my writing, it would be a great help so I can improve in the future. :) Thank you!


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